


The Ron Weasley Chronicles

by divagonzo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Corps Fic, F/F, F/M, Gen, auror!Harry, auror!Ron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-03-25 17:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 80,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagonzo/pseuds/divagonzo
Summary: Auror Ron Weasley wakes up in St. Mungo's with a terrible headache. Hermione wasn't the one who put him there either. He is offered an opportunity: teaching at the Auror Academy as well as a promotion. His job is more complicated than he originally believes.





	1. Being a Hero stinks sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally published on that other blue site but I figured it's time to import here now that it's close to wrapping up. Anyway, I hope those who haven't read it enjoy it. _\- DG_

* * *

Ron opened his eyes, seeing the white of the ceiling in front of him. The ceiling had water stains, making a bad collage with the pinprick holes in the fire retardant tiles. The bright fluorescent lights of the room hurt.

A beeping noise was above his head. _My head?_ _That’s what’s hurting._

He blinked, and the pain intensified. The nerves in his body slowly awoke, radiating from his neck downward. He groaned in slowly growing agony. His head hurting was the least of his problems.

He blinked again, and a set of soft blue eyes looked down at him. “Mr. Weasley? Are you waking up?”

“Bloody Hell,” he croaked.

“You’ve been through a lot. Don’t speak too much yet. Let’s get you some ice to wet your lips.”

The medi-witch put a small spoonful of ice chips to his lips, letting the cold course through his face. He saw the concern on her face, hidden behind the stoic professionalism. “What?”

“I can’t say yet, but you’re awake. That’s a great start. I’ll get a healer in here in a minute to tell you what’s going on.”

“Hermione?” _Blimey, I sound like a toad._

“Your wife?”

Ron blinked, nodding his head very gently. _Blimey, that hurts!_

“She’s out in the lobby with the healer. I’ll get him in a second. But first things first, are you hurting?”

Ron nodded gently again. Each movement threatened to make his head go off like a firework.

“Then we’ll get you some potions to make it better shortly. Try not to move until I get back.”

_I won’t if I can help it._ Ron settled back into the pillow, falling asleep once again.

* * *

_Ron stood in the shaded corner of the lot, watching the warehouse bustle with activity. The extension ears were in place, listening for that one voice that the Aurors were hunting. Avery eluded the Aurors for four years before an informant ratted him out. Harry never said who tipped him off, but Harry also said that his source in the matter was impeccable. Not surprising, since Harry was, and always would be, The Boy who lived. It took another two years of tracking his movements back to Blackpool and a Muggle narcotics trafficking ring to get him snarled up. They had people in place, inside and out, waiting to bust him once and for all and put him away._

_Harry was hiding in the other corner, disillusioned. He was watching the men come and go from the warehouse at the other door. Harry had the lead, but Ron planned everything out on the mission. Few in the office knew since they had caught the mole six months earlier. Roberts approved it; Jones signed off on it; Williamson was in the planning too, and Smith was the second MLS team leader. That was the extent of the planning base. Too many leaks too many prior times allowed him to escape the long arm of justice._

_They would have to be quick and careful, along with a team of obliterators for the Muggles were involved. Between the narcotics, which would be a life sentence for the Muggles, and for Avery and the other wizard he was working with, a lifetime in Azkaban since he was there the day of the Battle. Kingsley signed his warrant personally, the week afterward. Witnesses said that Avery was responsible for the stairwell collapse, severely injuring Lavender Brown who was further mauled by Fenrir Greyback._

_Archibald Brown, her father, demanded the warrant for his daughter’s tormentor – and thanked Ron at the anniversary celebration for helping exact vengeance on the other bastard who hurt his precious girl. The tears on his face that day were from anger and frustration. He vowed to bring justice for her tormentor and those killed that day. One paid the price, and he hunted for years for the other._

_Now, the ruddy bastard was in his sight, standing next to the window, directing the others inside. Their mole was relaying the information to them, was inside loading boxes onto the lorry, almost ready for delivery. Their pre-arranged signal: the closing of the lift door to the truck._

_The Mole dropped the door, and the Aurors apparated inside the building. “MLS! Drop your wands!”_

_Many a man tried to scramble away, finding the exits sealed. Spells flew across the room from the cornered men, trying to fight their way out of the room. Avery was vicious, injuring Aurors left and right. Within seconds, the MLS team was down, along with most of the smugglers. Whatever Avery did knock almost everyone down._

_“Give it up Avery. Two additional teams of Aurors have the building surrounded and sealed. You’re not getting out of here.”_

_“I’m not going back to Azkaban. Neither of us is!”_

_The barrels Harry and Ron were hiding behind levitated out of the way, giving them a second to scramble from their place before the explosion occurred._

_They were covered in soot and hot plastic on their combat robes, barely avoiding the scalding material._

_“Harry!”_

_“What!”_

_“Keep me shielded.”_

_“Are you mad?”_

_Ron grinned. “Quite possibly. Blame Hermione for it.”_

_“What are you going to do?”_

_Ron schooled his features. “Knight to C7.”_

_Harry blanched in understanding. “Ron, no.”_

_“Just get my arse out of here before Hermione finds out I did this.”_

_“You’re barking!”_

_“I owe Hermione and Mr. Brown for this. Just save me when I pull this off.”_

_Harry nodded, obviously unhappy about what was going to happen. “If you don’t live through this, I’m going to kill you, Ron!”_

_Ron flashed Harry a grin before turning back to the combatants they were facing. “If I don’t – tell Hermione I love her.”_

_“I’ll save your arse just so I don’t have to tell her!”_

_“Fair enough!”_

_Ron gripped his wand, focusing on the spot between the other two on the other side of the lorry, and spun. Five seconds later, Harry stood up from his hiding place, and blasted the truck tires, throwing the lorry onto the side, and on their hiding place._

* * *

Ron opened his eyes again, and there stood Harry. Worry etched his face like a bad carving, and the bruises under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion and concern. “You stupid bugger. Don’t do that to me again.”

Ron tried to smile through the pain. “Did it work?”

Harry nodded. “It did. Avery’s in the cells at the Ministry and his associate is dead. You were a lucky bastard, you know.”

“Why?” Ron whispered.

“The other wizard was Dolohov.”

“Merlin’s baggiest pants!”

“He hid in the Muggle world in Eastern Europe, hiding in plain sight, using muggle products to change his features just a touch. Not much, but just enough to hide. The only reason we know it’s him is because of the wand. Ollivander identified it.”

Ron settled his head back into the pillows. He started shaking, but hid his hand back under the covers, pressing his ragged nails into his leg.

“And I’ve been told by Roberts that you’re lucky you still have your bollocks. He’d never approve that tactic. Other than cursing your name worse than your wife, it worked to perfection.”

“It sure did!” bellowed the Minister walking into the room with two more Aurors in tow. “I don’t know where you got that idea Weasley but it was brilliant. Bloody stupid of you to risk it, but it worked.”

Ron looked at Harry, staring at him into silence. No one besides them knew that he already used the tactic once before with the same effect. Well, no one besides his wife, and she’d never tell.

“You’re going to be on the front page of the Prophet in the morning and the recipient of the Order of Merlin first class once again. The ceremony for it will be in a couple of weeks. You’ve earned it, Weasley.”

Ron blushed in the bed. “I wasn’t thinking about being a hero sir. It’s my job and it worked.” He cleared his throat yet again. “I don’t need another medal, sir. I was doing it to honor a promise.”

“Nonsense. Harry told us everything, so you are in need of recognition. Those two were the last on the most wanted list from the War. You are a hero in more ways than we can count.”

Williamson walked up, gently grasping his Ron’s hand. He slipped a pendant in his palm. “That pendant was my Mum’s. Dolohov killed her when they were hunting me that year. That maniac left a calling card for me on her body. He wasn’t merciful, trying to torture her for information. I vowed that whoever took that maniac out would have her pendant in honor of her. Thank you for giving her justice.”

Auror Williamson walked to the other side of the private ward, trying to take a moment to recover. Even in the brotherhood, it was hard to show the emotions that overflowed from time to time.

Taylor walked up, looking hard at Ron’s bruised face. He struggled for a second, finding the words to share his memory.

“Avery tortured my Muggle girlfriend before leaving her broken in our flat. I found her and got her to the hospital. She lived but never forgave me for leaving her a target. I can tell her now that she can sleep in peace now that the monster is in prison. Thanks, Weasley!”

Auror Taylor turned and went to the front door of the Auror ward, watching the hallway since he was still on duty. Williamson turned around, nodded to the minister, and slipped out of the room.

“So you think you’re not a hero, Weasley?”

Ron looked at Harry, who gave him a nod and a huge grin as his answer. “No, sir. I was just doing my job and protecting the rest of the team. Those two bastards were going to escape, and I didn’t want that to happen.”

Kingsley stood there, laughing in his bass voice. “Well, son, you’ve earned a promotion. You’re both too valuable now to be on the front lines. It’s time to teach the kids coming through now how to be as effective as you are. Besides,” Kingsley looked out into the hallway before looking back, “I don’t think I can handle your wives again. Worried witches don’t make for a pleasant meeting when it comes to you two. Twice before is bad enough.”

Both men looked at the Minister in concern. “Sir?”

“Potter, you’re being promoted to associate director of the Auror Domestic division, reporting to Jones and Roberts. It’s effective next week. You’re on leave the rest of this one.” Kingsley turned to Ron on the bed, who was sitting up a touch more. “And Weasley, you earned your promotion too. You’re going to be teaching at the Auror Academy, starting next term.”

“But, sir, I’m only –“

“Nonsense. You’ve accomplished more in the last few years than I ever did hunting down the demons that were the core of the last war. It’s time to bring those same tactics you and Potter here use to make us better, leaner, more efficient, and better adapted. It’s time the Auror Corps came into the new Millennium.”

Ron lay on the bed, gobsmacked. _Promotion? Teaching at the Academy? Stable hours! Seeing Hermione every night! Maybe time to consider -_

“Uh, Sir? Speaking of, where is my wife? I thought she’d be here by now.”

Harry smiled and stepped aside. Hermione was asleep in the chair behind him, tucked inside Harry’s Invisibility cloak and his outer robe. “We’ve been here a while, Ron, and she’s knackered.”

“What day is it?”

“Sunday morning. It’s been thirty hours. She was sick the first day with worry – and the healer gave her a cheering charm. It wore off quickly, and she insisted on a second one, trying to stay awake until you woke. She missed you when you woke the first time since she was out with the Healer trying to help them out. She crashed about four hours ago and has been asleep since. The healer said that she needs her rest for the next few days since he did two charms on her.”

The men looked over at her, watching her sleep. Kingsley turned back first. “You might not say you’re a hero, but I can tell you that you are for her. Everyone in this room has seen the way she looks at you. We know. You’re also a hero for the other Aurors in the Corps and for me too. Take the promotion and the recognition. Get off the front lines and train the kids coming in. It’s not every century that an Order of Merlin first class is awarded to a living recipient. Usually, the second one is awarded posthumously.”

The other two Aurors nodded from their posts in the room. The list of dual awardees was only a handful – and only three dual winners were still alive. Two of them were in the room and they were best friends.

“Well, then, since you put it that way, I’ll accept the promotion.

* * *

“I look like a poncy tit!”

Hermione stood in front of her husband, adjusting the tie he was required to wear for the festivities tonight. She stood there, looking immaculate in her maroon robes. He didn’t care that he was wearing the formal Auror robes, or that all of the brass buttons were polished to illuminated finery, or that he was wearing, for once in his life, a pair of cufflinks. Even the shoes he wore were polished to elven standards.

“My husband is a hero, and I want him looking like it. You earned it.”

“Being a hero stinks sometimes. I hate this. I rather stay home with you.”

“Nonsense. This is part of being a hero, dear. Let others laud you like I do. Let your friends and family celebrate your achievement. Let the world see you as a Hero. Feel the accolades – and the responsibility.”

Ron grinned down at his wife while she finished checking his appearance. “Harry said being a Hero isn’t as exciting as everyone thinks it is.”

Hermione looked away, blushing, before returning to reply. “He’s right, you know. Most of the time, it’s a plethora of paperwork and a few insane seconds of courage doing the right thing. You know. You’ve been my hero for years.” She stood up on her toes, planting a soft kiss on his clean-shaven cheek. “But I also want to sit there, listening to the people applauding you for doing a terrific job. I want everyone to know that you’re a Hero and you’re my Hero.”

Ron leaned over and put the cane in his hand from the doorway. He was still limping from the worst of his injuries, and would eventually recover, but walking on his rebuilt ankle was tough at the moment. The cast was uncomfortable, and it itched something fierce at times. Dolohov’s curse, breaking his ankle was the worst, before the explosion that threw him across the room into the concrete outer wall.

“You really think that? You think everyone will applaud me? No one will laugh?”

She stepped back, looking him over one last time. “I know they will dear. They were the last of the worst.” Hermione stepped back up to her husband, looking at his slowly darkening eyes. “I went and researched while you were still in the hospital, looking back at the record and warrants for Dolohov. He was as bad as the Lestrange Brothers, if not worse.”

Hermione’s voice caught, and she blinked her eyes for a couple of seconds to regain her composure. “He was responsible for Gideon and Fabian. Kingsley confirmed it for me. The Aurors never caught him, even after the fight at the Ministry the first time.”

Ron choked back the bezoar that just lodged in his throat. “That bastard killed my Uncles? He was responsible for them?”

Hermione nodded. “Kingsley confirmed it for me, once I found out. I don’t know if you remember, but he was the one who gave me the first scar, the one under the burn.”

Ron fingered the satin material on her chest, tracing the outline of the scar under the soft material. The burn from Bellatrix overlapped the curse scar on her chest, but it was still there to his inquisitive eyes. He spent many a moment giving love and attention to that one, and the myriad of more on her diminutive body. “He gave you this one.”

Hermione nodded solemnly.

“He killed Remus.”

She nodded again, failing to stifle the rogue tear that coursed down her cheek.

“He killed my uncles.”

Hermione nodded once again, not saying a word. She saw his vision was elsewhere, looking into memories not his own.

“Ron?”

He looked over her barely tamed hair on her head. He felt everyone’s presence even if he couldn’t see them standing there with him. He looked back down at his wife, seeing the emotions rolling over her face. “For you, and for them, I’ll do it. I owe you and Mum that much.”

She smiled, and put another kiss on his other clean-shaven cheek.

“Then let’s step out there and let the light shine on you.”

* * *

“It gives me great pleasure to introduce our last recipient, and the guest of honor this evening. Many of you know the family name, and some know the man I am about to introduce. But let me share with you something from a night that was a nightmare.”

Ron looked up at the Minister and realized what he was going to talk about. Mortification rolled across his face. He felt Hermione’s hand in his, warm where he was clammy. Out in the crowd, away from the dais, was his family: Each one of them beaming with pride for Ron.

Mum and Dad sat at the front of the table, flanked by Ginny and Harry, with George and Angelina on their right. Audrey, the Weasley family hero, was sitting next to her husband Percy and Bill. Fleur was home, too pregnant to travel for tonight’s ceremonies. She also kept the rest of the little ones, what few there were, while the rest could celebrate.

“The morning of the Battle of Hogwarts, I was shoulder to shoulder with Ron Weasley. The fight was spilling into the Great Hall, and it was a nightmare: chaos everywhere and a friend barely knew foe. We were there, directing people as best as you can in such a crisis.”

“Out of nowhere came a bundle of black robes. Ron stepped into the path of this fiend, and intercepted none other than Fenrir Greyback.”

First, a gasp, then a quiet settled over the crowd. Years later and his name still was the source of nightmares and bedtime stories, to quell rambunctious children before bed.

“I looked over to try and help, and Ron Weasley was on his back, strangling this monster with his bare hands. Inches from being bitten, and here he is, holding a full-grown werewolf away from him.”

“I couldn’t help because Riddle stepped into the Hall, and I turned to take him on. At the time, no one knew Potter was alive. At that point, it was a fight to the death.”

“While I was engaged with Riddle, with the help of Horace Slughorn and Minerva McGonagall – “

Shacklebolt pointed out to the table in the corner, behind the Weasleys, with a reply wave to Horace and Minerva.

“While the three of us were dueling Riddle, Mrs. Hermione Granger Weasley, along with Mrs. Ginevra Weasley Potter and Miss Luna Lovegood were dueling Bellatrix Lestrange.” Somehow, the hall grew quieter. She was the other boogieman who haunted the nightmares of quite a few in the room. 

Shacklebolt looked down the table at Hermione, seeing her determination and fierce pride for her husband, and the victors on the stage. A look of understanding passed between them.

“All of us were busy fighting for our lives. But in the midst of the chaos, Ron Weasley, along with Neville Longbottom, killed Greyback. Some say that Neville killed him. Other witnesses say that Weasley dispatched him with his bare hands. We’ll never know. But the fact that Ron Weasley stepped into the line, protecting my life, meant everything to me. It wasn’t what he did in the fight, but that he stepped up and made a choice and a huge difference.”

The Minister cleared his throat, taking a second before continuing. “Ron Weasley is the same man now that he was then. He, along with Auror Potter, went into the raid to capture known dark wizard and outstanding fugitive Carlyle Avery. They went in, and within seconds, everything went sideways. The MLS team, along with the smugglers, was down, leaving Aurors Potter and Weasley to take on Avery and his associate. Under tenuous cover, and being inundated by a barrage of offensive spells, Auror Weasley risked his own life to capture the two fiends.

The Minister looked down from the podium to Ron, smiling away. _You asked for it,_ he mouthed.

“Auror Weasley single handedly captured Avery, along with his associate. In the process, Auror Weasley was injured, and the one injury he complained about most when he was in the hospital wasn’t his broken ankle, or the missing fingernails when he splinched himself escaping. He complained that he slightly burned his chest from the hex, and it made certain things rather uncomfortable.”

A chortle echoed through the banquet hall.

“I know we joke, but Auror Weasley didn’t know until two days later whom Avery’s accomplice was. None of us did. It wasn’t until later through wand confirmation that Avery’s associate was none other than Antonin Dolohov.”

The crowd went silent.

“Auror Weasley captured two of the most wanted fugitives on the list and survived the encounter. But we’re not awarding him the Order of Merlin, First Class, for the second time, because he caught them. He is being awarded our highest achievement, because by risking his life to capture the fugitives, he single handedly saved the life of twelve Aurors and MLS agents, in addition to saving all of the fugitives in the building. In all, he saved about 30 lives in total.”

Kingsley took a sip of water from the goblet on the podium, looking serious for a second.

“What I am about to announce hasn’t been in the papers, but will go public in the morning. What Auror Weasley didn’t know was that Dolohov had a dead man’s switch in his hand. It was rigged to blow the entire building. When Auror Weasley engaged the criminals, he destroyed the switch, neutralizing the threat.”

One sob broke the dead silence in the room. Shacklebolt looked to his right, and Ron had his head buried in his wife’s arms, overloaded with emotion. Kingsley knew he was sobbing, watching his shoulders shaking in his wife’s embrace. He stood there a few seconds, letting the crowd watch the hero show his humanity.

The minister reached down and took his water goblet, drinking deeply while giving his Auror time to compose himself.

Ron looked up, his face screwed up with his cup running over with emotions. He looked at his wife, who wiped the salt from his face, taking care of her Hero first.

“Divine or Karma or Providence, we won’t question it. We’re happy to bestow our highest honor on him, instead of giving his Eulogy.”

Kingsley banished the podium, leaving him standing in the middle of the dais open for all to see. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Wizards and Witches, please stand as we honor Auror Ronald Bilius Weasley.”

Ron stood up, wobbling on his rebuilt ankle, holding his cane in support on his left, bringing Hermione on his right. She stood at his shoulder, watching with pride, as her husband stood before the Minister

Ron stood there, dressed in his dress black Auror robes

“Auror Weasley, for most conspicuous bravery, daring acts of valor and self-sacrifice, and an extreme devotion to duty in the presence of a vile adversary, we, the Ministry of Magic for Great Britain, award you the Order of Merlin, First class. Congratulations.”

Shacklebolt placed the award around his neck, letting the Imperial Purple and gold thread ribbon lay flat against his dress robes. A quick handshake and Ron Weasley turned out to the audience for acceptance.

Within moments, the hall was engulfed in applause, all in celebration of Ron Weasley.

He stole a glance to his right and watched his wife weep with pride. To his left was the Minister, grinning like a kneazle in the Creamery. They mattered, but not in the way he needed affirming.

He looked out through the spotlight and caught the eyes of his best friend, standing at the front of the Weasley table, clapping loudest of all. The rest of the family clapped right alongside him.

_Being a Hero isn’t as bad as it could be._


	2. You call yourself a Hero?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four friends head out to celebrate and come across a sloshed braggart.

* * *

“Tom, four butterbeers, and two shots of Firewhiskey.”

“Sure thing, Ron!”

Ron turned back to the crowd, finding his way towards the table at the front. The after-party for his Order of Merlin ceremony shifted from the banquet hall to the Fox and Otter in Ottery St. Catchpole. The family wanted a place to celebrate privately, once Ron was away from the official ceremonies. Tom the barman was pleased as punch to host the party for the Weasley clan, bringing out bottles of Ogden’s Black Label for those who wanted beverages.

Ron sat down at the table in the back, sitting with his wife, best mate, and his little sister. Weasleys dominated the crowd, from George at the bar, with wife Angelina next to him, talking with Tom about shop and business ideas. Poor Angelina was relegated to gillywater since she was three months pregnant. Molly was elated about Angelina being pregnant – but not so soon after they were married. Mrs. Weasley threatened to hex George’s other ear off for not waiting longer on getting her pregnant. Angelina laughed, telling Molly that it was those Weasley genes that beat the potion she was on.

That bit of information didn’t stop Molly Weasley from trying to yank George’s other ear off in the process.

Ron looked around the room and saw brothers Percy and Bill, along with Fleur and Audrey. They were talking with Arthur who was retiring shortly for the night. Molly went home after the ceremony and let Fleur come out to the after-party, trading off the three girls for the evening. Victoire was at the Burrow with Dominique and baby Molly, who was a month old.

Ron recounted his conversation with his father earlier in the day, before all of the pomp and ceremony. Hermione stepped out of the quiet room, telling her husband she would be back before he missed her. He laughed, kissing her passionately, and asking her to return quickly. She chuckled before leaving. Ron was looking at the refreshments on the table, considering what to snack on before dinner before he heard the door latch behind him. _The benefits of the VIP room – enough to feed the Weasley clan a full meal._

_Ron turned, wand at the ready instantly when he spied receding Ginger hair, glasses, and his own eyes looking back at him. He stowed his wand instantly, trying to calm down from his reaction._

_“Dad?”_

_“Hi, son.”_

_Ron stood there apprehensive. Arthur smiled back. “The first broom you ever rode was Fred’s in his room. You were three, and you accidentally broke it.”_

_Ron took three long strides, engulfing his father in a huge hug. Auror training had filled out his lanky frame, giving the strength of body when he previously had only the strength of conviction. He looked down at his hero, his role model for being the man he wanted to be, and saw the pride and respect._

_Arthur pulled back and took a moment to straighten his son’s dress robes. He dusted the epaulets on the collar, turning the buttons down the front of his jacket, and straightened the pins on the high collar. One more step back, and he nodded in approval._

_Ron was an Auror, a hero, but getting his father’s nod in approval was all he ever craved. Well, it was growing up. Now, the approval of his wife was paramount, followed by his best mate and his father. He knew at work his wife trusted him above all else, followed a close second by Harry. That epiphany happened the day he received his badge, followed by the private celebration at home with Hermione. It was in those raw honest raw moments that her words of pride and approval finally clicked in his mind. Those tears he showed his wife were understood and celebrated, if only in private._

_“Son, got a minute?”_

_“Sure. What’s on your mind?”_

_Arthur took off his glasses, wiping them on a kerchief from his pocket on his hip. Ron waited patiently, giving his father the time he needed to collect his thoughts. He was dressed in brand new robes, courtesy of Bill and Fleur. Harry told him previously that he and Ginny had quietly made the Weasley parents wealthy, giving portions of her contract to their parents. Bill oversaw their Gringotts accounts and made them even more. Yet with everything they received back from their kids, they still lived frugally, modest my any Wizard family means._

_Ron saw his mum earlier, dressed in a new frock from Gladrags. He remembered with glee when she Firecalled Ron the week before, talking about how she had a new wardrobe and interrogated him to who paid for it. It was the first time in Molly Weasley’s adult life she had a new wardrobe that she didn’t make for herself._

_He smiled, keeping the secret that they all made –all of her children paid for it._

_Ron watched his father take more time for composing himself. He knew that Percy picked up the habit from Dad, but watching Arthur take those moments sent the lessons home._

_Arthur put his glasses back on. His eyes were bright and rimmed in red._

_“Son, you make me so proud. Look at the man you’ve become. You’re an Auror and a hero. You got the girl, your best mate trusts you with his life, and you his, and you take care of your doting parents. You’ve earned what you have, in house and home. You have a great head on your shoulders, respect from your peers, and the accolades you’ve earned of your own actions. My youngest son is my Hero.”_

_His father’s words echoed in his ears, leaving him gobsmacked. He cherished this moment. It was just the two of them, with no one else there to take away from his father’s profound proclamation. He loved that there were no siblings present to take the mickey from him either._

_“Dad, I –“_

_“No, no, I won’t hear any objections this time. I know what you’re like. I won’t hear anything about it. Your mother might fuss at you for making a mess, or cut your hair when it gets too long for the field, but she loves you as much as the rest. But you’re my Hero, and you make a Dad proud to call you son.”_

_Ron’s vision went blurry. He was speechless, hearing the one thing he craved from his Dad on such an important day. Tears fell, and he felt a second set of arms giving comfort, shorter ones that told him he was home._

* * *

“Galleon for your thoughts, big brother?”

Ron looked up at his sister sitting next to him. She was dressed in fine green robes, made to look like a model in a minuscule package. He grinned, knowing he could share his secret with her.

“Dad and I talked before the ceremony earlier, and he told me I’m his hero.”

Ginny punched him in the arm, smiling the entire time. “Of course you are. You’ve been mine for years, you prat!”

Ron smiled while mentally quashing the niggling voice in his heart that questioned that assertion. That voice made him question everything he knew for a while, and it took even longer to overcome those doubts and insecurities. Only when he could defeat his boggart on the last day of Auror academy training made those doubts disappear. Harry had been there, along with his other friends, and they cheered him for defeating it.

“It’s nice of you to jump on the bandwagon, Ginny. It took you long enough to realize it.”

Ginny grinned back at her brother, smiling over her tankard of butterbeer. “Oh, now that you’re a hero, you can be a git too? Brilliant!”

She threw her head back and laughed. It was as rich as her robes. Ron laughed right along with her.

“What’s the punchline?”

Ron looked up, and there stood his wife and best mate. Harry had his own tankard of butterbeer, and his wife had a bottle of gillywater in her hands. Harry stood with an arm around his best friend, both smiling like they won the lottery. They all did that terrible day in May years prior.

“You are Harry. You got second place in the most beautiful wife contest.”

Ginny punched him in the arm again, laughing the entire time. She slid off the bench, taking in her husband’s warm embrace. Harry looked down, seeing Ron on the bench while he had his arms around two gorgeous women. Ron only smiled back.

“You can keep Ginny, but you have to give Hermione back. She’s mine you tosspot.”

Harry laughed and Hermione blushed. “You mean I can’t have two birds on my arm. I am the Chosen One, you know?”

“Nope. You’re a specky git and a prat so take your hands off my wife and keep the one you have.”

They all laughed while Ron stood up to let his wife sit next to him in the booth, giving her a peck on the cheek. She slid into the booth while Ron took the outer seat.

Old Tom brought their tray of drinks, taking the empty pint glasses back with him. The four of them gave him custom once a week and he appreciated them entirely.

He left, watching the Heroes talk among themselves and watch the rest drift away throughout the evening.

* * *

The party slowly broke up around half nine, leaving the four in the corner laughing and being their usual jovial selves. Tom was wiping down his bar top while seeing the man at the end deep in his mead. Tom wasn’t worried since the man came in occasionally for a pint or two before toddling home. But tonight was different. He started with Firewhiskey and stayed with it. Within an hour, he was pissed. Old Tom didn’t know how he’d get home on the other side of Stoatshead Hill outside of the village. Maybe he could ring someone to come get him.

“Tom, did I ever tell you I was a war Hero?”

Tom looked down the bar at the patron, watching him slosh his whiskey on the varnished wood. He knew when he saw a man hurting, and needed someone to listen, whether in importance or in grief. He didn’t know the man well enough to know which it was tonight that was haunting him.

“Sure am Tom. I’s there at Hogwarts that terrible night them years ‘go. I was up on the battlements fightin’ alongside them Aurors and helpin’ those kids escape to Hogsmeade. I ain’t seen scared kids until those kids were runnin’ for their lives out of Hogsmeade. ‘Course I went through, ‘cause I needed to help. I couldn’t stand by and do nothin’ when that sod was making murder.”

Tom looked over to the corner and saw his four legitimate heroes quieting down, listening to his pontification. Curiosity showed on their faces.

“I ran through the town, seeing those kids running out like banshees were chasing them. I turned and ran for them – and saw the madness. There were spells flying all over, bodies flying. But it was seeing those sods hurting the kids who were left behind. I had to do something – and I did.”

“What’d you do Charlie?”

“I did what I could – I started blasting anyone in a mask. There weren’t that many of them out in the town, but just enough to keep the folks pinned down. So, I started blasting away. Next thing I knew, the spells quit falling. I couldn’t figure it out to save my life. So while it was quiet, Rosmerta opened her bar and ushered the last of the kids in there, using her Floo to get those last few kids and the injured out of town in flash. Well, when she was doing that, one of those guys apparated right in the middle of us and snatched Jamie and I heard him screaming when they apparated away. That bothered me terribly, but then the spells started up again, harder stuff this time.”

Old Tom looked at the corner and caught flashes of emerald and sapphire and various shades of brown looking up at them. Harry tipped a galleon his way, telling Tom that he’d pay the drunken revelers tab tonight. _Good man is young Harry._

Tom pulled the bottle of Ogden’s out and poured him another measure, watching him slosh the amber liquid on the bar top. He downed the drink and took the next one before downing it too.

“Well, Rosmerta took the last of the stragglers in and shoved them out of town. Those that were left, which weren’t many of us, looked around and saw that there were only baddies left – just enough to keep us pinned into her pub. They had already incinerated Honeyduke’s and set fire to Zonko’s. Maybe they were trying to drive us out, for whatever reason. But they hadn’t tried to set fire to her pub or at the Hog’s Head. Maybe Aberforth was still inside serving drinks while the world burned. He would, knowing him.”

Tom saw the Auror at the table slosh his drink on the table, and the fire in his wife’s eyes. One word from the Advocate at the table shushed them down.

“Well, someone tried to snatch me from my spot, but I reacted and blew him back. He left a mess on me and on the wall that was behind me. ‘e tried to snatch me from my vantage point, ruddy sod.”

‘Charlie’ tipped back his glass, finishing off his drink.

“Well, the spells stopped again, and I made a run for it. I knew they were coming – and they did. They made a run at Rosmerta and tried to kidnap her. So, I blasted one of them and she got the other two. All I heard were the screams, then the painful silence. She and I looked up, and there was only a handful of us left. Rose looked at me, and I took off for Hogwarts. She stayed behind, hoping to get someone to town to get reinforcements or some help.

Charlie looked at his glass and frowned. Tom looked over at his patron’s table and got a nod – so he poured one more measure, which Charlie pounded down.

“When I got to the gates, it was the stuff of nightmares: people down, men in black fighting others, spells flying faster than thought. I ran. But I kept running, stunning people wherever I could get a spell in. I hit one that had hurt a student, but I couldn’t do more. There were spiders and trolls and blacked caped devils flying around there. It was a mess trying to get around the bodies that were lying around on the ground. I think I took out a troll running up into the school. Everywhere I looked was chaos and mayhem. It was madness.”

Charlie looked down at his glass and tossed back the dregs in the glass.

“I then saw one that made my knees buckle. It was that monster Greyback. He turned to me, and I froze. He smiled at me and ran at me. Merlin, I was so scared.”

Charlie took a breath, trying to keep from wobbling on his seat.

“That monster had me pinned, snarling, while he tried to choke me to death. It was a struggle to keep him from sinking those teeth into me. God, he stank. That’s what I remember most – the stench of the werewolf.”

Charlie looked over at the beautiful witch next to him. Her warm chocolate eyes were inviting. “Oh please sir, tell me the rest of the story. I’m dying to hear what you did for that monster. He was so scary!”

Tom looked up and saw the scowl on the other three at the table.

“Well, I was able to keep my hands on his neck, and somehow managed to keep his teeth away from me. He was taunting, telling me he was going to bite me, ravage me then go after my family too. He wouldn’t kill them but just infect the kids. He said he loved making the little ones, and I was nothing more than an impediment.”

The witch fluttered her eyelashes at Charlie, encouraging him to continue the tale.

“Well, he had me on my back, and my wand was lying just out of reach. He snarled at me, and I rolled, grabbing my wand before blasting him away. He left such a mess. I couldn’t believe that I killed that monster by myself.”

The witch smiled and showed off her perfect smile, sliding a hand over Charlie’s own on the bar.

Charlie smiled back at the young witch. “What’s your name? You look familiar. Think I can buy you a drink tonight?”

Tom saw the smile slip from vacuous to maliciousness in a second. “My name is Hermione Granger-Weasley. If you want, I can introduce you to some others. Here, let me introduce you to my sister in law, Ginny Potter.

Charlie turned around and saw another beautiful woman behind him, standing in green finery.

“Ginny Potter was at Hogwarts that day, and later on, was the most valuable flyer for the English National Team in the 2004 Quidditch World Cup. She is also the wife of the Hero of Hogwarts, Harry Potter.”

Charlie’s smile dropped from his face. “You’re Ginny Potter, the famous Quidditch star? Blimey!”

Charlie turned around, and behind him stood Harry. His eyes were dark, full of temper that was barely restrained.

“I’m sure I don’t need to talk about his accolades since everyone knows his name. But the one hero I am dying to introduce you to is Auror Ron Weasley, my husband.”

Charlie made one last turn, and the lanky ginger Auror stood behind his wife, hands on her shoulders. He looked down at Hermione and saw the other side of the powerful witch – the one that makes Muggles flinch. Her civil façade was gone and replaced with barely controlled anger.

“You’re a fraud. You couldn’t have been in the Great Hall that day. Your talk about fighting and bloodshed like it was something to celebrate, not the atrocity that we witnessed that day. You speak of details that I can’t remember even after looking at my memories in a pensive.”

Hermione stood there trying to keep from screeching like a banshee. Only her husband’s hands on her shoulders kept her in check.

“Normally, I’d forgive you for your boasting and your storytelling skills. But you stole my husband’s valor and for that, I can't forgive you.”

Charlie shrunk into his stool, cowering under the intense gaze of the dark-haired witch in front of him.

“A real hero doesn’t brag when they’ve had to kill in combat, nor do they brag when the blood of others is on their hands. But let us tell you what happened to Greyback on that terrible morning. Since you are a braggart, boasting about killing him with your bare hands, you should have your details right.”

Hermione quickly recounted the details for the craven drunk in front of him, leaving no details out. Within seconds his face turned the colors of the rainbow, finally retching when she explained Greyback’s demise. Ginny did a quick spell, cleaning the mess. Tom gave her a nod of thanks.

The other three left Hermione standing at the bar.

When Charlie looked up, the same witch was standing in front of him, like a Sphinx. “Now, Harry has paid your bar tab, but you stink of cowardice. I don’t abide by them and certainly won’t listen to it again. Go home, and decide if you want to be a hero, or just sound like one. If I see you again, I hope you can tell me that you are a role model to at least one person in your life.”

Hermione stepped back and left the retch on his chair. A pair of heartbeats later, and the drunk stumbled from his seat, running for the door and out into the night. She frowned, watching the man leave before turning back to the booth with her loved ones.

Ron scooted back into the bench, eyeing his wife before breaking out into a grin. “Blimey love, why did you let him go?”

Hermione settled into the hug her husband offered. “He was harmless, looking for a comped drink. He got what he wanted. He‘s an alcoholic, and a poor one at that. He wanted to feel important but wasn’t. So, instead of ruining him, I held back and told him what he could do so he was a hero rather than stinking like Lucius Malfoy. That’s why he ran – because we humiliated him, rather than harming him.”

Hermione sighed. “Dumbledore was right. There are worse things than death: dishonor, deceit, and disrespect. I hope he learned the lesson I gave him tonight.”

Ron leaned over, kissing his wife on the cheek. Harry and Ginny grinned. “Well, I’m proud of you honey. I rather you deal with him. I’d have tossed him from the bar on his bum if I handled it.”

Harry smirked. “Some hero you are, letting your wife handle the dirty work.”

“Well, she is considerably better at dealing with messes and cowards than I am. I just punch them in the face. She’s harder, making them think and quietly humiliating them.” Ron looked at his wife, smiling at her, the private one he saved for her. “She’s a nightmare and needs to get her priorities in order. But she’s mine, as scary and brilliant as that is.”

Hermione smiled. Ron grinned back.

“And on that note, does anyone want anything else tonight? It’s been interesting enough as it is.”

Harry looked at his wife, seeing her smile turn. He looked at his sister and best mate across from them. They were in their own little world already.

“Ginny, I think it’s time we went home. Those two are making me sick.”

Ginny grinned, threading her hand through his. “Yeah, those two heroes are atrocious. I don’t want to get sick too.”

Harry grinned. He knew from experience that he wouldn’t get another word out of them.

He stepped up to the bar and handed Tom ten galleons. “We owe you anything else, Tom?”

“Nope Mr. Potter. Your bill is paid in full. If those two get anything else tonight, I’ll talk with you next week.”

“You’re a good man Tom.”

“And so are you, Mr. Potter. Good Night, Mrs. Potter.”

“Good night, Tom.”

The happy couple stepped out of the bar into the night, leaving the Heroes on their bench in the corner of the pub.

Tom smiled, knowing that they wouldn’t notice the other couple’s absence for a while.

_Heroes should get the girl. That one certainly did._


	3. Return of the King (to the classroom)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Ron's first day teaching at the Academy. His friends and family know how much encouragement he needs to succeed.

* * *

“Captain Weasley! Captain Weasley!”

Ron turned around to the voice bellowing up the hallway. He had left his cupboard of an office at the Academy, intending to grab a cuppa and some extra breakfast before his first teaching seminar of the semester. He turned, using the cane as leverage on his still plastered ankle. It was a right pain in the arse every morning, putting the bloody thing on after his morning shower, but the healer said that Magic wouldn’t mend the ankle that time would.

He turned and saw the face of the department secretary, Matilda Blunt. She was pretty in her own way but didn’t turn his head. A scar marred her face – from temple to her jaw, courtesy of Death Eaters come calling – earned her more respect in the department for fighting off the intruders to protect her family. Her brilliance in the department worked well with her own sheer toughness – especially keeping the Aurors in line.

She skidded to a halt, barely avoiding Ron’s looming presence. “Captain Weasley, this parcel just came in.”

“Has it been verified?”

“Yes sir, there’s no curses or anything malicious attached. I was told it came in two days ago but just finished testing.”

“Very good. Anything else today?”

“No, sir. I know to hold your mail until you’re done teaching today.”

“And Mrs. Weasley?”

“I am to bring it to you if it’s marked red on the outside. That shouldn’t happen this morning since she’s in your AM seminar class.”

“Sorted. You’re a terrific help, Ms. Blunt.”

She smiled, the scorch mark disappearing beneath her smile. “Thank You, sir,” she whispered in reply.

Ron watched the assistant turn and walk back to the department, curious to who sent him a private parcel. He tore the butcher’s paper wrapping and unwound the twine that secured it. Affixed to the top was a letter, sealed with purple wax and a P embossed into the wax.

He opened the letter and stood befuddled, then turning to shock.

_Ron Weasley:_

_I wanted to thank you but I didn’t think my appearance today would be appreciated. There is too much history between us for my personal thanks to be accepted with sincerity. I realize that I need to make amends with you as well._

_I’ve enclosed something important for you – something that you might have missed for some time. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m returning it now. It’s simple really: I didn’t know it was in there. It was only when I went looking for a particular document that I came across this and had it verified._

_So accept this gift: it’s my way of showing appreciation for exacting justice – and in my case, vengeance – for the wrongs inflicted upon my person and family. You didn’t intend to do such but nonetheless, you did, and for that, I shall ever be thankful. I can rest easy tonight knowing that my parent’s murderer has been dealt with permanently. I know you didn’t intend to kill him but I‘m glad the bastard is dead._

_If we cross paths again, I will thank you for your efforts._

_Sincerest regards,_

_Pansy Parkinson_

Ron ran his finger along the seam of the package and opened it gently. There lay his wand, fourteen inches, and Unicorn hair, the one that was lost at Malfoy Manor so many years past.

“Bloody hell!”

Ron picked it up and held it in his hands. Gold sparks popped from the end. He had his own wand back.

Ron twisted the wand in his hand to check and make sure it wasn’t damaged or a trick. He had a piece of rubbish at his feet and pointed his wand at the ball of paper. A silent incantation and the ball levitated into the air and bounced around like a bludger. Another silent spell and the piece of rubbish turned to ash.

_I missed you too!_

* * *

Ron and Hermione spent much of the previous day reviewing his teaching curriculum. The only break they took was Sunday Brunch at the Burrow with the rest of the family. They returned home to go over his notes and practice for the next day. Hermione was his class, acting the swot yet again.

They retired early since he would need a good night’s sleep to deal with his assigned task: teaching in a classroom. He thought he was ready but was facing a daunting task of talking to a class of first-term students. He didn’t know how to talk to these bloody kids.

His wife’s tender words whispered in the darkness of their bedroom two hours before sunrise, boosted his confidence this morning on the first day of the seminar. She knew of his concerns, and his apprehension facing a class of idiots who thought they knew enough to be an Auror. He had to project confidence to the tossers who would sit in there.

She left early but promised to see him later in the day.

Ron finished off the breakfast before him – fried eggs and rashers and toast – and pulled the letter from the pocket of his uniform jacket. Bile churned in his stomach before finding the note in his pocket. Love letters weren’t Hermione’s style but this was her own way of showing her love for him. Hermione’s delicate script adorned the front of the letter she left for him.

_My Love,_

_I’m proud of you. You have stepped out of Harry’s shadow and will accomplish so much. Your brothers can’t hold a candle to you. Then again, I never thought they could when compared to you. Well, except for Percy but he’s a prat._

_You’re ready._

_Show them the fire you possess and the duty they are stepping up to achieve. Teach them what you learned by standing by Harry and supporting me.Teach the students what they need to know. Pass along the lessons that Moody growled at you._

_Show them why Weasley is still my King._

_When you walk in, look up to the last row. I’ll be there._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. – We’ll celebrate when I get home this evening._

Ron read the note again, trying to dislodge the boulder in his throat. He could be 80 and relish her words of praise for his actions. _I’m proud of you_ rang in his head like a clarion. The words of his father, and repeated by his wife, reinforced his self-worth. He might look like Captain Weasley to most people but inside was still the messy little boy with dirt on his nose trying to live up to his brother’s achievements.

Ron stood up from the table and made his way to the lecture hall, ready to do academic battle.

* * *

Captain Ron Weasley peered into the lecture hall and stood aghast.

He expected a small class of students but nothing like this. It appeared that the whole student body and complement of Auror Corps showed up for his first lecture. He screwed up his courage and stepped into the lecture hall. All in attendance stood at attention and began clapping.

Hermione’s words of love and affection this morning buoyed him before the audience.

_Bloody Hell! Now I know how Harry felt stepping into the arena with the Hungarian Horntail!_

Harry’s words echoed in his head once again. _You’re a Hero. Accept their thanks and their praise. You’ve earned it._

Ron stood at attention, accepting their respect and honor, as their instructor and as a hero. While at attention, he scanned the room. Each seat was filled. First-day students mixed with newly graduated junior Aurors. Senior Aurors sat shoulder to shoulder with the Directorship. It seemed that everyone who mattered turned out today for his first lecture.

His eyes traveled up the lecture hall, looking for those warm chocolate eyes that he saw most mornings. He found her standing in the top row, looking rather fit in her work robes. She gave him her private smile and he had to adjust his collar.

Harry was standing next to her. Ron expected no less from his best mate since the day the world changed.

He blinked in surprise. His brother Percy was there, standing in front of the last seat on the topmost row. His applause was appreciated but the nod of honor took his breath away.

Lastly, he nodded to the Minister standing in the doorway. Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded in reply and quietly stepped out of the doorway. Percy slid out of his seat and left as well.

Ron pulled his wand from his robes. His earned one, the Hawthorn one he won off of Pettigrew he kept stowed in the holster on his arm. He raised the newly returned one while watching his wife’s puzzled reaction. He nodded once to her and put the wand to his throat.

_Sonorus_ he intoned. “Thank you. Your applause and welcome is appreciated, and will not be required again.”

He stood before the hall waiting for those in attendance to sit back down and settle into their seats.

“Welcome to the first seminar of Tactics and Strategy. I am the proctor for this term, Captain Weasley. This class will last approximately forty minutes with questions at the end of the session. What I will teach in here this term will integrate with your other classes.”

_Thank you, Hermione, for making me sound intelligent and wise._

“If you’re here to listen to stories of valor and heroism, that isn’t the point of this class. If you want that and only those stories, go hit up Romilda Vane and Rita Skeeter at the Prophet. They’ll tell you every salacious detail, true and fake. I’m here to teach tactics and strategy. Only on occasion will acts of gallantry or stories from the war be discussed. Besides you sods, most of its classified anyway, so I’m not talking about that.”

Chuckles bounced around the room at his humor.

Ron stepped back from the lectern to transform a chair into a display table. He opened his cloak and pulled out a battered and worn chess set from his robes, laying out the pieces on the table. A swish of his wand and the pieces took their places upon the chessboard.

Turning back to the classroom he asked quietly, “Who in here besides my brother in law and my wife play chess?”

Numerous hands went up in the lecture hall. “Now, who in here that is a student plays Wizard Chess?”

Most of the hands that up went down. “Now for the ultimate question: Who in here plays Muggle Chess?”

One lone hand remained in the air. “Well stand up cadet and tell us your name.”

“Cadet Stewart, Sir.”

“Well, Cadet Steward, come down here. You’ve earned the privilege of playing me in a round of Muggle Chess this morning. You’ve also earned the first merit of the term.”

A groan went out around the room. Ron looked out at the students and the groan ceased. “Don’t worry. Everyone in here will get a chance to play me for a merit. Whether you win is another matter.”

Sparse laughter dotted the hall.

Ron stood back from the table letting Cadet Steward assess the board before him. “Out of deference, you can take white.”

The room watched as the two players engaged in chess. The cadet struggled within the first five moves, quickly losing pieces left and right. Ron Weasley was stoic, studying each move by his opponent before checking the king.

He looked up from the board to the audience. “Not bad for a first-day cadet. It took him 21 moves to be defeated. That puts him on the level with Captain Potter on the back row and better than Solicitor Weasley as well.”

Chuckles bounced around the audience.

Captain Weasley pulled the cadet next to him. “Now, where did your strategy break down, Cadet?”

“Strategy, Sir?” the cadet said quietly. “I really didn’t have one. I was trying to win but had no strategy to accomplish the objective.”

Ron looked down at the cadet next to him. “And that is why you failed to accomplish your task.”

He looked out onto the audience. “The first rule of being an Auror is this: know your job. The task you were given – play me in chess – that was a given. You thought the task was to win. You thought well, but you approached it without thinking strategy, relying on tactics only. You had no plan to accomplish the task before making your first move. There was no consideration when the plan, or lack of, fell apart.”

The cadet nodded at a quiet word spoken to him privately before returning to his seat. Captain Weasley waited for the young man to sit down.

“The military philosopher Sun Tzu said, _Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy are the noise before defeat._ Yet his greatest thought, for those in service and out of it was the most profound and yet simple: You have to believe in yourself.”

Ron took a deep breath. “You’re probably wondering why I had the other cadet play me in chess.” Ron waited to see if anyone would speak up. He wasn’t surprised at their reticence. “The first time I played chess for something important, I was twelve. But you’re probably wondering what is so important to a twelve-year-old? A package of sweets? A tin of biscuits? A ride on your older brother’s broom? In my case it was so my best friend could beat a terrible man who wanted to harm him.”

The auditorium grew quiet. Ron was expecting this and was ready to take it to the limit.

“At Hogwarts, in a room that few knew of, there was a full-sized wizard’s chessboard – complete with charmed pieces. To win you had to play your way across the board. That day, my wife was the Bishop and my best mate was the Queen’s side Castle. I choose to be a knight.” He saw his wife’s smile across the room and returned it. “Neither one of them really knew how to play chess – not that well that is. I was fortunate that my father taught me when I was a wee lad and beat him for the first time when I was seven years old. I thought he’d be upset but he smiled and got me some biscuits as my reward. That’s the only time I had ginger thins and I still don’t like them.”

A laugh rippled around the room.

“So, that day, at the ripe old age of twelve, we played Wizard’s chess for real. But it wasn’t all fun and games either. This was brutal and especially barbaric. Sure enough, I saw an opening and I realized I had to take it. Unfortunately, it meant personal sacrifice so my best mate could check the king.

“I screwed up my courage and made the move, knowing the queen would take me. I still did it. I believed in what I was about to do.

“She did and I woke two days later in the Hospital Wing in Hogwarts with my best mate in the next bed and my other best friend – the bushy-haired swot who somehow still likes me – there between us reading her favorite book. She called it light reading. I called it a doorstop.”

Chuckles echoed once again.

“Chess has been used to teach strategy and tactics for centuries. It’s used for logic, for rules of combat, and also to grow leaders. A field grade commander can create a battle plan in minutes and knows well enough that upon first contact with the enemy they will have to adapt – in strategy and those same tactics. You can plan for minutes or years but upon the first contact with the enemy, you will have to improvise. What you are learning from this seminar will hopefully be how to adapt to the chaos and mayhem – as Captain Potter once said, _When all Hell breaks loose_ – and still succeed.”

“Now, class, let’s discuss the topic of strategy versus tactics. Can a student hazard a textbook definition of what strategy is?”

Ron grinned as his wife’s hand went up in the audience. He broke protocol and gave her an award-winning grin. “I’m sorry Solicitor Weasley but since you’re not an official student in this class, I will have to call on someone else.”

Many a peer of the married couple chuckled in response. Ron needed the laugh. The class was going too well in his mind and expected to muck something up. Sure enough, a few hands began to tentatively raise in the student audience. He looked around and picked a quiet one sitting a few rows back from the front.

“Yes, cadet, stand and state your name for the audience.”

A mouse brown-haired young lady stood up. She looked down at her feet. “Cadet Billings Sir. The definition of strategy is the science and art of military command exercised to meet the enemy in combat under advantageous conditions.”

Ron looked the brand new cadet up and down. “Billings, huh? You remind me of my wife. Are you brilliant when it comes to planning or improvisation?”

“Well, I was top of my class at Hogwarts, sir.”

“Yep, just like my wife, Solicitor Weasley. If I have to guess, it would be this: you’re aces at planning and time management tools, working long into the night to know everything you can, and when the spells start flying, there is some trepidation and difficulty in adapting.”

Cadet Billings blushed but offered no reply.

“Don’t fret Cadet. Two years here and you will be able to plan and improvise in field operations. It took me months without Madame Weasley by my side for me to get my feet under me academically. You’ll get there as long as you listen to your instructors and practice diligently.”

The cadet nodded in understanding before sitting back down.

“Now, class, answer this. With a show of hands, who played Quidditch?”

Ron grinned at the number of hands that went up. “Not bad.”

“Now for another show of hands – how many Seekers are in the audience?”

A few hands remained up.

“How many Chasers?”

Many hands were up.

“And Beaters?”

Fewer hands went up.

“Lastly, Keepers.”

Two hands went up.

“Only two? Wow. I’m surprised honestly. A keeper for Quidditch has to watch and react and instruct at the ground level, so to speak. A Seeker can see all of the action, like a snitch in the sky, but they are too busy with their designated task to give direction or counsel out on the pitch.

“Then there are the chasers, who are out there trying to score goals without getting knocked off their broom. The Seeker can end the match but the chasers are the ones in the air who make the match worth watching. The beaters are the balance for the teams, trying to impede the chasers from accomplishing their duty. Sometimes they are successful and sometimes not. But there are out there on defense and trying to change the course of the match. They are the ones who have to adapt in a heartbeat to defend the chasers or knock the other guys off their broom. But the one who has the most responsibility is the Keeper. He’s the one who can encourage, adapt, react, and coach. Sometimes, he’s got to do all of it at once. The captain can be responsible, but the keeper is the one who can watch and react – deal with the chaos out there in the strategy and the tactics used. He’s also the last line of defense if you are down a chaser or a beater, or if the seeker gets bludgeoned off his broom.”

Ron smirked and so did Harry.

“The same can be said for the Auror corps. Sure we will train hard and practice and learn, in the classroom and on the pitch, but out there, under stress and spells and shite going sideways, you have to know how to adapt the strategies, use tactics that the enemy can’t anticipate, and overcome those obstacles to make your objective, whether it’s rescuing a kidnapping victim or arresting a fugitive. You can’t depend on the seeker to catch the snitch for each match. You can depend on our team knowing how to react out there and anticipate the other team to act and react and adapt to it. But it takes the entire team, working together on the same page, knowing their job, their roles, their responsibilities on the task at hand, to make the mission successful.”

Ron looked out at the students who were taking notes on his lecture. He sought his wife’s face on the top row and she nodded in affirmation. He was nervous that it was going too well but he trusted her to keep him going.

“Now class, let’s talk the differences.”

* * *

Hermione sat in the back row for the entire seminar. Her director said it would be wise for her to attend the lectures as continuing education in the MLS department. She laughed at that statement but agreed that attending her husband’s classes would be educational from the Auror side and not the legal side she worked on. The laughter was that she helped craft the new curriculum and assisted in preparing him for the lectures he would present. If anything, she knew the material better than he did – at least from an academic perspective. She tuned out most of the lecture today since she went over it all with him the day before.

But that wasn’t why she was willing to sit in a classroom listening to a lecture she knew by heart. She loved seeing him shine and stand out of the shadows.

Ron Weasley had truly grown into the husband she knew he would be.

She also appreciated the witty retort by Ron when he asked for a textbook definition, and then played it further on her swotty behavior as a student. Her reputation preceded her to this day. She was a brilliant legal mind, a passionate solicitor for MLS, and wickedly logical in the Wizengamot where she argued cases from time to time. But sitting in this lecture hall with most of the present Auror Corps and much of MLS was astounding. She watched her husband take control of the lecture hall and teach in ways she didn’t consider his strengths. He used her wisdom but put humor and respect behind each student he called on.

But what impressed most was the awe and respect given by the fellow Aurors and the new students. The cadets she could understand – most of the cadets, from their first day to last term students – heard the adventures – what few there were – of Captain Ron Weasley and his war and post-war heroics. An occasional article about her husband’s heroism usually stoked renewed interest in Auror Ron Weasley. Their awe was hero worship for the most part. The senior staff might be another story. They respected him above most, including Harry. The accolades were welcome from the Auror Corps along with MLS. Then again, it might be the two sets of purple wands on his BDUs that commanded respect from his fellow Aurors. Few people, aside from Harry, stood in the spotlight like her husband. Now the attention was welcome, appreciated.

Hermione smiled. She was entitled to have a set of purple wands on her robes but thought that might be overkill. Few in the wizarding world didn’t know of Hermione Granger-Weasley. Her reputation preceded her almost everywhere she went. Instead, she opted for wearing Tyrian purple when she addressed the Wizengamot – to differentiate from the vermillion robes worn by the members of the jury.

“Now, for next class, we will be discussing the practical application of command structure in an Auror operation with emphasis on role distinctions and duty fulfillment. You have your reading assignments for next time. Class dismissed.”

Students stood at attention while Captain Weasley departed the auditorium. Hermione sat in her seat humming _Weasley is my King_ to herself.

“I have to get back to work. See you tomorrow evening for dinner?”

Hermione turned to her brother-in-law and brother by choice. “We wouldn’t miss it, Harry. Give my love to Ginny.”

“Always,” he said quietly while putting a chaste kiss on her cheek. “And Hermione?”

“Yeah Harry?”

“You’re one hell of a mentor for Ron, you know that right? He couldn’t have done today without you.”

She blushed at his compliment.

Ron slid the lock on the cupboard known as his office. It was a might bit larger than Hermione’s first office at Magical Creatures but also smaller than her current office at MLE. He was told it was temporary until his real office was ready next week. For now, he would make do.

_Tap Tap Tap_

“Office hours aren’t for another 90 minutes so sod off you tossers!”

The knob turned and Hermione slid into his office. One look on her face told him everything he needed to know. “That good, huh?”

She took two steps to stand in front of Ron, interlacing her hands into his own. “But I’m not here about your performance. I knew you’d exceed expectations. I came by before lunch because of the wand. Where did you get that one?”

Ron stepped back from his wife and opened the lapel of his jacket. He had his wand stored in the interior pocket for now until he could get another wand holster for his arm. “Well, Ms. Blunt brought me a package before the lecture and said it was cleared. So, I opened it and it had a letter attached. You won’t believe who sent it to me?”

Hermione struggled for seconds trying to comb her memory for a suitable person. “Not Draco Malfoy I hope!”

“Merlin no. That bugger wouldn’t know a wand from his own – “

“Ron!”

“Just kidding,” he grinned. “Anyway, it’s from Pansy Parkinson. It seems that it was in her personal vault and didn’t know she had it. I dunno how she came to have it but she returned it to me with thanks and appreciation.”

“Pansy? Pansy Parkinson? She’s the current publisher of the Prophet, right?”

“The same one.” Ron pulled the parchment from his jacket pocket for her to read. Hermione scanned the neatly penned letter and looked up at her husband. “Well, that explains something I didn’t fully realize.”

“What’s that dear?” Ron pulled her back in close, smelling her floral scented shampoo, water lilies and aloe.

“Ever since the end of the war, every news article is always positive about you. The only Weasley she is nasty about is Ginny. Sure, they are snarky for me from Rita and for Harry and Draco and Ginny, but never you. That would explain things.” Hermione looked up at her towering husband. “I think she fancies you.”

“Pansy the pug? You must be mental!”

Hermione dropped a soft kiss on his cheek. “I thought we established that years ago. Now come on. I’m famished.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

Hermione pulled the door open to his office. “Well, I seem to recall skipping breakfast so I could spend time encouraging my husband this morning.” Ron broke out into a grin. “And I wanted to be hungry enough to feel like eating with my King. Lead the way my Sovereign! I’m famished!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N2:** The standing at attention upon entrance is something from my own academic learning. Back in the dark ages, when I was an early teen, I was fortunate to have an astounding History teacher (who also taught Geography.) who made such a profound influence on my life. He was larger than life and demanded respect (and within a week, he earned it!)
> 
> His grasp of History along with teaching the subject was something amazing to go through. He was hard as nails and didn’t accept anything except your very best efforts in his class. He could have taught college students anywhere – but instead, he taught in a public junior high school. You either loved him or hated him – there was no middle ground with him.
> 
> Because of him, I love reading about History - learning it and using those lessons from so long ago in my writing. This is my ode and thanks, to Dr. M.E. Jackson, for getting me to love History. _\- DG_


	4. Stepping out of the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron teaches his second lecture seminar and is asked some very hard questions.

* * *

“Bugger,” Ron muttered into his pillow.

“Something wrong, love?” Hermione said from her side on the bed.

“I’ve got to wear my official uniform today. It’s Inspection Day for Kingsley.” Ron groaned like a man who was fresh out of tea and biscuits. “I hate the sodding thing.”

“Is that a problem? It shouldn’t be since I’m terribly fond of you in it – or out of it.”

Ron peeked from under his pillow and saw her looking at him. “’Tis not funny, Hermione. I’ve not worn it in months, since the last Inspection Day. But since I’m teaching I thought I was exempt.” Ron shoved his head further under the pillow. “I hate wearing it in front of everyone. Everyone looks at me like they do Harry: that fake fawning idol worship.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining. You never had an issue when you only had one set on your uniform. That second set of purple wands on your collar makes people trip over themselves to talk with you.” Hermione put her finger into the pages of the book she was reading. “Admit it: you like the attention those days and I benefit from it at the end of the night.”

Ron lifted his head from the mattress and saw her smirking. “Oy, woman, you’re insatiable right now.”

“I’m surprised you’ve not tackled me in the den lately. It has been three whole days.”

Ron thumped his head down. “Don’t remind me. I have a stiffy most days when I see you in the office. It’s hard enough to let you work without trying to throw you over your desk.”

“Sometimes I do wish you’d throw me over the desk,” she said quietly. “And you know it’s hard enough to not pull you into a broom cupboard and shag on those ten-minute interludes, right?”

Ron shifted his hips in an ineffective method to relieve the pressure on his hips.

Hermione smirked at her husband. “Problem, dear?”

Ron looked out from under his pillow. “As a matter of fact, yes, I do.”

Hermione laid her book aside and snuggled closer to her husband’s side. “Shall I help you with your problem?”

Ron grinned. “Why yes, Solicitor, I think you can. I think you’ll be a tremendous asset to fixing my problem.”

An hour later, he was left alone sitting in their bedroom buttoning his dress shirt after tucking the tail of it into his trousers. He then laced up the boots for his uniform. They weren’t quite the ones he wore every day. These were special ones that Hermione got him. She said they were by a Doctor someone, but that didn’t matter. They were as comfortable as the other ones but kept a shine better.

Ron stepped in front of the mirror and checked his appearance. Hermione made sure before she left for work that his uniform was sharp and polished. The collar on the jacket was stiff, as required. The epaulets were straight and the buttons down the front were shining brightly. The only difference on his uniform and almost everyone else was the inclusion of the two purple wands on his left chest, above the ribbons. Somehow they stood out even against the blue wool of his jacket.

At least he had on his Cannons t-shirt under the dress shirt of his uniform – and his Cannon’s pants too. Hermione insisted that if he was going to be inspected, he’d want to be Ron Weasley under all of the trappings of his job. Strangely enough, she was right. Wearing his fan clothes made him feel more comfortable with the stiff starched collars and the pressed pants of his uniform.

Teaching three classes today dressed like a twat would only irritate him further. But as long as he was drawing a check from the Ministry as an Auror, he had to dress like a ponce for them. Maybe someday he’d be able to wear his normal clothes and just blend in.

Ron looked in their mirror one last time. He laughed at his daily deluding. He was six foot four and had ginger hair. He’d never truly blend in unless he was under Polyjuice Potion. No, no matter what he thought, he’s stand out like a Dragon in London.

He turned and made his way to the front door and the rest of his duty for the day.

* * *

Ron walked into the seminar room and saw the crowd was just as large as it was the previous week. He’d told Hermione the night before that he thought the crowds would thin out after last week but she tutted him in disagreement and told him that they were there to hear how Auror Weasley earned his wands.

_“That’s a load of rubbish and you know it. The Auror Corps have me teaching this while I heal up. As soon as I’m walking normally again I’m back on field duty.”_

_“You’re wrong, dear. They want to hear about the Hero and how he became one.”_

_“You’re full of shite.”_

_“Well, you’re my hero and my King so I think I know a few things about appreciating their hero. Now come here,” she cheeked._

_After that, the bickering took a more delightful turn._

Ron looked around the room and waited for the crowd to settle down.

“Today’s lecture is on the Practical application of the command structure and the distinctions of roles and duty fulfillment.” Ron looked out and smiled. “Yeah, it sounds dry as toast, doesn’t it?”

A few chuckles erupted from the audience. “Yeah, I thought so too, at least at first. But it’s also dead important to know what you sods are doing out there, whether you’re on point or in the rear with the gear.” More laughter echoed through the room.

Ron settled in and started his lecture, talking about each person on the Auror team having a duty to the mission. He went over command structures, how the department was

Hermione had read over the section he was to lecture on, and pointed out a few key things that she saw – and then helped him make notes so he could talk about it. She filled six feet of parchment and then distilled the information down to one foot.

Ron took the one foot of parchment and lectured for 30 minutes from it. He got to the end of his parchment and saw that 30 minutes of the seminar had already passed and it was time to take questions. _Remind me to thank Hermione properly tonight for her assistance._

“Now, before I open the floor to questions, my door will be open in 2 hours. I expect three cadets to come see me during office hours for a round of chess.” Ron grinned. “I hope someone can beat me this year in a round of chess. I’m offering Full merits to the student, apprentice, or Junior Auror who can best me today.” Quite a few of the younger ones grinned at themselves at the possibility of besting Auror Weasley at chess.

“Now, does anyone have any questions before we wrap up this discussion today?”

One lone hand went up, about six rows back. The cadet looked small like Harry did before he had his growth spurt at sixteen. But unlike Harry, his robes fit him well.

“Stand up and tell us who you are.”

The cadet stood up, looking rather shy at being called up. “Cadet Smythe, sir.”

“And your question is, Cadet Smythe?”

He mumbled a few words and promptly sat back down.

“I’m sorry Cadet but I couldn’t hear you. Use the _Sonorous_ charm so everyone can hear the question.” Ron looked at his wife and winked. “The blast didn’t wear out my hearing; my wife did that years before.”

A few chuckles echoed through the room. Yet Cadet Smythe stood back up, put a wand to his throat, and stammered a few seconds. “I asked, Captain Weasley, how hard was it being second best?”

The cadet promptly sat back down, and from what Ron could discern, tried to crawl under the seat. All Ron could see of the young cadet was bright red ears under his shrunken frame.

Ron smiled, one that disarmed more suspects than anything else. He looked around the room, at the seniors who were in there for a break from paperwork to the students who weren’t even past their first lesson. Each one looked at him in awe, or with cynical disdain. He knew he wasn’t as appreciated as Harry but he’d take their cheek and respect equally.

“If you didn’t hear the cadet, he inquired how hard it was being second best. To be completely frank, it was bloody hard and yet terribly easy.”

The room went quiet, even more so than normally possible. Ron winked at the two sitting up on the top row once again, realizing they were the only two who truly knew the monsters he wrestled with for decades.

“I was the youngest son, but not the youngest child at home. I’ve got some really cool siblings, from a Curse-breaker, a dragon conservationist, a prankster business owner, a high-level bureaucrat. I won’t even mention a certain starting Chaser for the English national team.” A loud laugh punctuated the room. “But that’s not what you asked, is it? You’re asking what it’s like to grow into my own image when my two best friends are The Git who lived and the Smartest Witch of our generation – also known as my wife.”

Ron leaned into his lectern and looked around the room. He gave each one in the first three rows a glance before he returned his gaze back to the cadet who made the inquiry.

“I’ll admit I was a tosser growing up. We didn’t have much in the way of material things. I took after my oldest Brother in size, but not girth. I had hand-me-downs and my brother’s things, from clothes to books and even my first wand. The first thing that was mine was a new wand when I broke the hand-me-down wand I had. It was only when I was a little older, and the older brothers were out of the house and earning their own galleons that I had a couple of newer things, clothes, mostly. When Mom couldn’t put me in my brother’s clothes, she had to purchase them for me. I loved having new clothes. It was such a thrill.

“But then when I first boarded the train for Hogwarts, I met someone that just blew my siblings away. I didn’t even realize it for a few moments until I saw the mark on the git’s forehead.” Raucous laughter rippled through the room. “No one else gets to call him that, ‘cept me and his wife. Don’t forget it.

“Anyway, he was nice about it, showing me. That day, we shared treats from the trolley and had a blast. Little did I know that, while I was lamenting about only having a sandwich from Mum – tinned corned beef which I still detest – he bought plenty and shared it with me. But for him, it was the first time that he had a friend, and got to share sweets with someone. See, he too grew up in ill-fitting clothes and hand-me-downs.”

The room settled back down and Ron took a sip of the tea on the desk behind him.

“And then blew in the whirlwind of a know it all and threw my world for a loop.”

Ron stole a glance up to the person next to Harry and saw her smirk.

“So, by the end of my first year, I was friends with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Little did I realize that I was, yet again, going to be overshadowed.

“Now I will admit that being best friends with those two isn’t easy. All of us are passionate, headstrong, and have a certain disregard for rules and regulations.” Ron chucked once in private joke. He’d tell Hermione later. “But it was only much later, after we went through so much, that I came to realize that we balance one another out. Harry is a leader – but he’s pants at planning and strategy. That’s why I’m teaching this and not him. Solicitor Granger can plan things down to a minute’s increment, but she’s less than stellar at adapting when things go sideways. Put her in a Wizengamot chamber with a head brimming with facts and statutes, and she will argue you out of your trousers if you aren’t careful. Brilliant she is, but not for Auror work.”

Another chuckle echoed through the room.

“But eventually, I had to pick up my own wand, own up to my own attributes and mistakes, and step out of their considerably long shadows. I had to realize that I might not be the fastest at finishing tests, or making top marks, or taking down nasty dark wizards, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t have something to contribute. I think the other members of my team and the ones up on the top row would agree to that statement.”

He glanced at Harry and Hermione who were both nodding emphatically. He watched Hermione wipe her face before turning studious once more. Then he looked out at the faces in the crowd. The cadets were silent along with the Directorship.

“By my wand, know this – people had died at my hands. I’ve failed to save others.” Ron glanced up and saw brown eyes being wiped. “I’ve seen carnage and mayhem to make most people crumble. I’ve been blown off my feet by curses and missed death by fractions of an inch. I’ve made mistakes that cost some their lives.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve also saved so many lives that I’ve truly lost count. I’ve had strangers come up and thank me for saving their loved ones. The accolades only matter for the record books and ministry parties that Shacklebolt hosts. For me, the honor is returning a child to her mother, or bringing in a criminal for prosecution.”

Ron took another deep breath. “Being an Auror isn’t easy. It takes discipline, courage, and a drive that most people don’t possess. You have to want to make the world a better place, and you have to want to be an instrument of justice. It’s not about stick waving and things miraculously happen. It takes hard work, discipline, and knowing the rules before you are smart enough to know when to break them.”

Ron took a deep breath. “I’ve also been there when I was completely out of control. I’ve been so angry, so full of hatred that murder was on my mind. If I had seen the enemy at that point, I would have used an Unforgivable and had no problem doing it.” Ron smiled but it wasn’t pretty. “Then I grew up even more, and learned how to stifle the emotions, at least while on the mission.”

He looked at all the cadets and saw them cowering. “While all of that is happening, you also have to control yourself, control your emotions and rely on training and discipline. You can’t get mad as hell when you see your partner go down. You can’t let anger cause you to exact vengeance rather than justice and bring the sod in for arrest.” Ron scanned the room and saw many nods of agreement. “That is illegal and if I catch anyone in this room doing that on an arrest then there will be hell to pay with me.”

He took another deep breath and looked at another cadet, this one on the far right of the room. “You asked what it was like to be second best? I’ll tell you. Second best got me the job, certainly got me the girl, and the freedom to be the hero I always needed to be.”

Ron stared out at the crowd which was hanging on his every word.

“Second best also got me blasted off my feet, got my leg broken, and put me in hundreds of situations where I was watching someone else’s back. Second best meant that I had to keep an eye on my best friends and protect them since they were out either saving our world or changing it for the better with their bare hands.”

Ron caught Harry smiling at his quip.

“But I’ll tell you this. With us, there is no unimportant place. We’ve been through the Dragons’ fire and came through alive if scathed by it. Each of us is stronger with the other two in their lives. And frankly, I’d not be the Auror I am if I didn’t have my mum twisting my ear every time I come over and my Dad talking batteries in his shed either.”

Ron took one last sip of the tea in his cup. He laid the porcelain down on the tabletop before returning his attention back to the cadet. “So, to summarize it, Cadet, I wouldn’t be the Auror I am if I was anything other than second place, at least for a while. Second place gave me the motivation to improve and get better, without the pressure that others expected of my other siblings or my best mates. And that’s ‘cause I didn’t expect to live through the war.”

Silence spoke back to Ron Weasley from the front of the auditorium.

“That’s right. I fully expected to take a curse for my friends and family. I’d never guess in a million years that the noble git would try to make himself a martyr to save everyone or that I’d be locked in a dungeon while my best friend was being interrogated before being rescued. Second place meant I had to sit there for many sleepless nights while watching over someone from being tortured viciously at the hands of a monster. Being second place meant that I was the one who pulled them back from the darkness of it all. Being second place meant that I was the one expected to keep them from dying when they took a risk. Being second place meant that I would have to keep fighting if either one of them fell short. Being second place meant more responsibility than the person leading us.

“Somehow, and I don’t question it, we succeeded.” Ron gave a hard look around the room while pointedly ignoring those on the top row. “So you ask what it’s like being second place? There is no second place. Everyone is important.”

Another hand went up in the group. “And you are?”

“Junior Auror Wellington, sir.”

“Go ahead.”

“When did you know that you cast your own shadow? Being an Auror is hard enough but being best mates with Auror Potter had to be somewhat intimidating too. How did you adapt and overcome his shadow in the Auror Corps?”

Auror Wellington sat down and looked rapt after asking his question.

Ron laughed at the question. “My own shadow started the first day of training. Harry went in first like he usually did. I followed a few months later. The day I stepped into the Auror Corps, I had the unexpected fortune of sitting down in a hard chair in the Auror department and was handed a tome of Auror code and policy that would make Solicitor Granger proud. I know because she read it too, as a bit of light reading.” Ron laughed at their private joke. “Unlike my earlier years when I could depend on her expertise to distill information for my simple understanding, she was off at Hogwarts getting her 8 NEWTS and would be of no help for me whatsoever.

“So I sat down and started taking NEWT quality notes and started learning in earnest for the first time. It was hard as hell and that tome was so dry Mum’s cider wouldn’t have helped at all. But I kept at it like a bookworm and eventually, it started making sense. Sure I might not make top marks, but I knew the material well enough to get pretty good marks on it.

“Within a month, I was getting good marks in the written material but also making top marks in the practical side of training. Director Robards started assigning me to more things and pushing me to work faster on the field assignments. Sure I grumped like all Aurors do but he had good reason to push. I finally found something I excelled at. Director Robards saw it and so did the others.

“Eventually I started to emerge as a leader. I got picked for the harder tasks, shadowing better Aurors and learning everything I could with them. I got put into more situations that required adaptation and improvisation, all the while keeping to the rules and regulations of the Auror code. I took what they Senior Aurors threw at me and pushed harder, longer, and more diligently at my tasks.”

Ron looked around the room at the rest of the gathering. “Did I get some piss poor assignments? Did I muck up? Of course. Sure, I had to go under Polyjuice a few times as training bait for the others. That sucked dragon’s balls. Another time, I was the test dummy for a new product that we use to this day.” Ron shuddered when he had to test out the weaponized Polyjuice Potion. He was still thankful that Hermione didn’t hex him into the next month when she saw who he looked like.

“But I still wanted to be an Auror, whether I was the leader or last on the team. It didn’t matter because I didn’t want the credit or the glory. All I wanted was to make the world safer for those I love.

“If you’re here as a glory hound, you’re going to be a terrible Auror. We’re not here for glory. Our job is to do the grotty work, the nasty shite out in the field and dealing with some fucked up buggers. No, we’re here for the job, not shiny ribbons and medals and toastings at Ministry parties.”

Ron looked around. None in the audience was distracted. “I had to work like hell to get where I am at now. It’s not been easy, and there are some days I want to put a wand to my head and obliviate myself for what I’ve seen out in the field. But those times that I have made a difference, whether rescuing a child or taking down a bad wizard intent on hurting someone – those are the days that make being an Auror worth it.”

Ron looked around the room and saw some heads, mostly belonging to the older Aurors in the audience, nodding their heads.

“Sure, the paperwork is a hassle and the monotony of a stakeout makes me want to light some fireworks for fun, but no one promised you a life of adventure when you took the oaths required of this job.” Ron pointed at his collar, showing the two purple wands there. “What I’ve been through to earn these wasn’t fun. What I’ve seen in my 24 years would make Mad-Eye Moody cringe. But I come back, every single day because the job isn’t done.”

Ron watched Harry nod at him.

“As long as a wizard thinks they can harm a Muggle without consequences, I’ll be there. As long as there are people trafficking people illegally, like house elves but for slavery, I’ll be there. If witches think they can harm children with magic, we’ll be there.”

Ron looked up at his wife sitting next to his best friend.

“The history books might mention me last, thinking I’m second best. In comparison to Auror Potter and Solicitor Granger, that might be the case. But I know it isn’t true. I know from experience that all of us, as friends, was the second best. But I’ll take second best with them, and with my partner out in the field, any given day. Second best is important and vital on the team.”

“Any other questions?” Ron waited a few seconds and didn’t see another hand up. “Next week, we’ll discuss the catastrophic destruction of the Forest of Dean – also known as the mountains of paperwork required. Class dismissed.”

Ron left the room first and took his time reaching his new office up on the third floor of the building. It was more spacious than the closet he had at the start of term and that was just fine for him. He opened the door and looked around out of habit before throwing his robes over the cloak stand in the corner. “By all means, please continue.”

Ron spun around and pointed his wand at the chair behind his desk. “Show yourself.”

Ron heard movement from the chair and watched the disillusionment charm melt from the body of his wife. She was sitting there looking completely smug after surprising him in his office. “Barmy witch, you were nearly hurt.” Ron stowed his wand and walked to the chair. “Knocking on the door is preferable, you know, with an Auror.”

“You’re an Auror who is still walking with a cast on his ankle and a cane with him.” She cheeked back. “I thought I’d surprise you and take you to an early lunch before your next teaching session.”

“Oh really? I’m interested in your proposition, Solicitor Granger.”

“You want to pop over to the Leaky for some lunch before you have your 1 pm class?”

_Knock Knock Knock_

“Bugger.” Ron turned back to the door and opened it. Cadet Smythe stood there looking embarrassed. “Sorry Captain Weasley. I’ll come back later when you’re not busy.”

Ron opened the door further and escorted the cadet into the office. “Solicitor Granger, Cadet Smythe.”

Hermione nodded once towards the cadet standing by the door. “May I talk with you, Captain Weasley? It’s about what you said today in the seminar.”

Ron looked at his wife in the chair and turned back to the young man standing before him. “I presume since you didn’t wait until office hours that it’s something confidential you wish to discuss?”

“Yes, sir. It can wait if you’re –“

“Nonsense. Hermione, can we postpone lunch?”

Hermione stood from the desk and walked around it to her husband. She gripped his hand once before smiling. “Your students come first. I’ll pick up takeaway and bring it back here. Same order?”

“Sure, love. That’ll suffice.”

She turned to the cadet who was barely taller than herself. “Would an hour suffice, cadet?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you like fish and chips too?”

The cadet blushed. “Yes, ma’am. That would be lovely.”

Hermione walked towards the door and smiled at them both. “Lock it behind me, Captain Weasley, if you please.”

Ron saw her wink before she walked out of his office and closed the door. Ron did as she asked and then turned to the cadet before him.”

“Please, take a seat and let’s talk.”

 


	5. Ch. 5 Art of Wizarding Warfare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Here you are, fresh from the ironing board and ready for consumption. There are bonus biscuits for finding the 80s reference in the story.
> 
> And my Solicitor wanted me to remind everyone I don’t own IP or Copyright to Harry Potter – only this potential plot going on which might or might not be working. Maybe. Possibly. - _DG_
> 
> * * *

Ron looked over the Auror prescribed curriculum he was supposed to teach and cringed. “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me. They want me to teach this? This is utter rubbish. These young sods don’t need this ‘cept for filling out paperwork.”

Hermione looked up from her desk and piles of parchment and gave Ron a puzzled look.

“These kids don’t need to know how important it is to have everything written in triplicate. It’s drummed into them from the day they get their manual for being an Auror. It’s almost as bad as Umbridge and how pathetic she was as a teacher.”

“If you mention her again in my presence, you’ll be sleeping on the couch for a month. You know I can’t stand that pink robed toad.”

Ron shuddered at the threat behind her comment. “Sorry, but it’s the best I can compare it to. She couldn’t teach worth shite.”

“True, it was purely academic from biased sources and it was absolutely worthless for what we needed that year. But it was instructional if a complete waste of time with her.” Hermione picked her quill back up and went back to her writing.

“I don’t want to be a teacher like her, that’s all I’m saying. I don’t want to treat the kids like little shites who are there just to be fed mush. These are apprentices and cadets and they need this information, even if I think it’s nothing more than mountains of rubbish and barely important. I can cover that in five minutes, but that leaves another 40 to sit there twitting our thumbs.” Ron ran his hands through his cropped hair. “You know what I think?”

Ron heard a muttered grumble from Hermione on the other side of the room.

“What if I taught something that is vital to the job? What if I talked more about practical applications, like you mentioned, and why it’s important to be able to adapt in a situation out in the field, without having to rely on London to give the go-ahead before making an arrest. What if I talked about tactics, on how to handle a situation without all the pertinent information that’s needed?”

Ron heard a non-committal acknowledgment.

“You’re not helping.”

Hermione put her quill down and turned to look at her husband. “You actually want my opinion on this?”

“Well, yeah. You’re the smartest person I know and you know the material better than I do. That’s why I’m asking you what you think.”

Hermione looked at him for a moment before putting her hand out. “Let me see the next class curriculum.”

Ron did as she asked and he watched her scan the two feet of parchment he was to work from.

“You’re right. This shouldn’t take more than ten minutes to cover in class.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.”

Hermione gave him a sharp look. “It still needs to be covered since it’s important for my job,” she quickly added. “But you probably can start on what you want to teach in the class, too. I do think having that taught in class, about adapting to changing circumstances without supervision from London is vital.”

“So you think I do need to cover it in class?”

Hermione nodded without replying while reading down the document. “I can write up a distillation for the class so you can talk about the other important things. But talk about this first since it is important.”

“If you think so.”

Hermione put the papers down on her lap and looked at her husband. “Would you like to tell the class about the incident where Avery got released from custody the second time because some Auror didn’t fill out the arrest warrant correctly and was released, only to disappear for three years ‘til you arrested him?” She handed back the parchment to him.

Ron turned into a house-elf with her quip. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I reckon I can add that in and then talk about the other stuff too.” He leaned over and kissed her on the temple. “Brilliant you are,” he muttered before putting the parchment on his desk and starting to write on it.

Hermione watched Ron scribble notes onto the parchment, ignoring her. She smiled while she watched her husband work diligently on his next class lecture.

“Ron?”

“Yeah,” he muttered again while continuing to write on the page before him.

“What did Cadet Smythe want to speak with you about?”

Ron continued to write on the parchment but his ears and neck turned red almost immediately.

“Nevermind. I shouldn’t have asked. That’s between you and the cadet.”

Ron finished his scribbling and laid down the quill. “Oh, it’s nothing completely like that, but it’s rather complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“Yeah. The cadet has a crush on you and was humiliated to speak about it to anyone else.”

Hermione felt her cheeks flushing. “But that’s not the complicating part, is it?”

“Nah, not really. But he was a spot of bother when you offered to get him lunch. I thought I’d have to clean up a mess after you left the office.”

Hermione shuddered at what he was implying. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, so is a cadet who was just a bundle of hormones with you around. But he wanted me to know, to keep everything on the up and up.”

“Anyway,” she quickly changed the subject, “what else, if you can talk about it?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, the cadet took what I said to heart ‘cause he’s in the same situation. He needed someone to talk to ‘cause he’s the one who is shuffled aside. His sisters are the ones who are talented in the family and here he is, having to fight to get what he wanted.”

“Fighting with sisters?” She inquired.

“Yeah. He’s the middle child, it seems. Older sister is a Healer. Younger sister is top of her class and cherished. He felt left out and shunted by his parents.”

“Did you tell him otherwise?” Hermione stepped over to Ron’s seat and sat down demurely on the edge of the desk. “Did you tell him that he had already succeeded just getting to this point, as a cadet?”

“Yeah, I reckon I did but it took a bit more to convince him of it.”

Hermione put her hands on his face and softly kissed him. “I hope you were able to give him some good advice and inspire him. You’ve been through all of it and came through it a better man for it.” She kissed him again.

“Yeah, I reckon I did. Nothing like building self-worth and self-esteem by getting shite done and doing it well.” Ron looked pensive. “We talked about some of those cocked up days, and the days where you wanted to chuck me out of the nearest window.”

“I never did,” she said quietly. “Ginny’s the one who throws things, not I.”

“No, you didn’t but that’s what I was hearing in my head and thinking too bloody much about how much of a fuck-up I was at the time.” Ron looked at his calloused hands. “But then you’d be brilliant, whether smiling at me over breakfast or snogging me to my toes and it’d help get my head on straight.”

Hermione sat silently while he continued his thoughts.

“But it’s not like he can get that from you, but he can lean on his fellow Aurors when he’s having a shite day or putting aside the job as much as possible and having a life outside of trying to catch the sods who break the laws and hurt others. You showed me that I needed to balance the harshness of the job with some silliness outside of it.”

“I did?”

“Well, yeah. I reckon I saw you working your fingers to the bone and those days when I pulled you out of the books helped both of us. I just realized that we both needed the break from the job and our duties and just go live a little.”

“But you were so busy working both jobs, we barely had time for one another. When did you realize it? Why didn’t you tell me this ‘til just now?”

“I’ve known for a while.” Ron smiled and pulled his chair next to her. He laid his hands on her knees and saw her smile shyly. “You think that, but those moments we did have, and still have, are priceless to me. You keep me grinding away, keep going when I just want to fall into bed and sleep a year. I like taking those moments with you, even if it’s just a bite in the canteen.”

“Really? You think that?”

“Well, yeah. You inspire me to be the best I can be.” Ron brushed his lips across hers before smiling at her once again. “Keeping up with you isn’t a bad thing, I reckon.”

Hermione blushed when Ron returned to his parchment.

“Now get off my bloody desk since I gotta finish this tonight. I have to teach those silly sods in the morning that filling out paperwork in triplicate is important for more than just Hermione bloody Granger.”

Hermione smiled at her cheeky husband. “Do you need any more of my help?”

“I’d love a leg over but I gotta finish this first, for the class tomorrow. You told me that I’m teaching it and it’s on my head so I need to finish this.”

Ron picked up his quill and started scribbling on the parchment, ignoring her once again. “But if I get done before midnight, you better be ready for me.”

Hermione laughed while Ron went back to his writing. She stood over the top of his head and kissed the top of his head before leaving their office to work in the next room.

She’d wait a night for a leg over if it meant Ron was successful in doing what he loved.

* * *

Ron stood at the lectern while awaiting the class to settle down. Instead, he grew irritated at their persistent talking, delaying the start of his teaching. An old professor, one he despised, cropped into his heads. He pulled his wand and performed the incantation silently, causing a massive thunderclap to crack across the room.

The room went silent instantly.

“Glad you sods settled down.” Cadets and Aurors alike got quiet. “’Bout time you gits,” he muttered to himself. “Now, we’re going to review why paperwork, as terrible as it is, is deadly important, but it’ll also tie into why it’s also not as important as some of the other dung we do in the field. Now, does anyone want to hazard a guess as to why we get drilled on paperwork daily?”

A few hands rose out in the audience. “’Cause the Aurors say it’s important,” a lone voice yelled out the answer.

“Well, yeah, it is but I wanna know why it’s important. Any daft bimbo can say it’s important but I wanna know why.”

Another hand went up. “You there, fifth row, sixth seat in. Give us an answer.”

“Cadet Stewart, sir. It’s important because it serves as a necessary paper trail for the Wizengamot for prosecution.”

“Do you have anything else to add to it?”

“Proper paperwork means that the paper pushers have a job too.”

“Cheeky answer, cadet.” Ron waited until the young man sat down. “But he does have a valuable point. Filling out paperwork correctly means that the witches and wizards you arrest stay in the cells and aren’t released because of legal muck-ups. Correctly written mission debriefing means that the sods we arrest stay arrested, not getting out on a bloody technicality to go keep mucking up shite out in the field.”

Ron put down his parchment and looked around the room. “How many people in here worked the Avery case the first time?” Ron watched a few old hands go up. “And the second time?” Fewer hands went up. “What about the third time?”

No hands were up. “Now why the bloody hell was one of the Ministry’s most wanted arrested three bloody times and only on the first and third made it to the Wizengamot for incarceration in Azkaban?” Ron looked back out at the cadets. “Because some dumb arsed sod didn’t fill out his bloody paperwork correctly at the time of his arrest and his fuckin’ solicitor got him out of the cells in the ministry and he was in the wind for three years.

“I know ‘cause I was hunting that bastard much of those three years.” Ron saw more rapt faces on the cadets and apprentices. “Anyone want to hazard a guess as to what happened to the Auror who didn’t fill out his paperwork correctly?’

“Shacklebolt fired his arse?” Another voice rang out from across the room.

“That Auror wished he was only fired. No, once Avery was released because of bad paperwork, we found the Auror three days later, dead. He’d been worked over, from head to toe, missing quite a few of his toes, fingers too. Avery admitted killing the Auror during the last interrogation because he knew that he wouldn’t get a Dementor’s Kiss. No, he admitted to torturing the stupid sod, keeping him alive ‘til the bastard got paranoid and ran.”

Ron looked at the shocked cadets. “Try telling his widow that he was murdered ‘cause he cocked up a filing report. You’ll be lucky to have your face left.” Ron stood up further. “So, we’re going to spend the rest of the class time discussing this important problem and how you, as the Auror Corps, can do something about it. I don’t want a repeat of what happened that day. See, his wife slapped my face off for telling her that her husband is dead and we don’t know where the bastard is hiding because he cocked up an arrest report.”

Ron rubbed his face from the memory. “Oh right, that that wasn’t a pleasant day at all. And do you know why I had that lovely duty?” Ron waited for the heads in the audience to either nod in agreement or shake them in the negative.

“I had the misfortune that day of working with that particular Auror. We made the arrest and brought to sod in. It was only once we’d filled out the piles of parchment to satisfy the Wizengamot that we went home.

“When we came on shift the next night, the Minister was there and we went into the Director’s office. It seems that Avery had a brilliant solicitor who found a loophole in the after-action report and the arrest warrant from the Wizengamot and he was released from custody. The bloody bastard was so smug.” Ron remembered that day quite vividly. “The solicitor paraded Avery right in front of us, evil little shite. Bugger smiled at both of us as he walked right by. There was nothing we could do at that moment.”

Ron finally looked up and saw Harry sitting in his chair on the top row. Hermione was nowhere to be found. But then she remembered that week, being forced to stay with his parents down in Devon. He didn’t need her reminding him about that week.

Abandoning her on the Horcrux hunt only hurt worse than the week he had to hide her along with his parents. That week would remain a painful reminder of how important paperwork really was to his job.

_“I don’t give a shite. Pack your beaded bag and go to Mum and Dad’s house_ now!” _She was crying and he was yelling because he couldn’t risk her while he was out trying to track the bastard down. “I can’t hunt him if you’re vulnerable. Please, I know you’re brilliant but if you’re at home, he can get at you. I can’t risk that, not now.” Only when she was safely in the house with Mum and Dad did he relent, kissing her frantically before apparating away and trying to track the sod who threatened her._

He worked overtime that week and didn’t see her. Ginny was out on tour and not a concern, not like Hermione. She’d be protected, at least while he was chasing the nasty wizard. But after the case went cold, he went to see her. He presumed that he missed her more than she missed him. He was utterly incorrect. 

She changed his mind immediately. First, it was the row then it was making up for the row. Five days were long enough when it concerned Hermione Granger.

That memory fueled his _Patronus_ for months.

“I was reviewing my partner’s reporting when I got called into the Director’s office. Robards told me and senior staff that my partner didn’t check in for the start of his shift. Four of us went to his flat in Manchester and saw the place was destroyed. We hunted everywhere we could think of for him and it was all for naught.”

Ron took a deep breath.

“We tried everything we could think of to track down my partner. Everything I could think of, we checked. It was like they vanished from the face of the earth.

“Three days later, an Owl came in. It got scrubbed and checked and checked again. We read the contents and took an emergency Portkey out to Canterbury. We checked the area but the only thing there was this old grotty church with some green guy up on the side of the building. My wife told me later that the Muggles love the place. I can’t see why.

“But then the smug bastard sent us a _Patronus_ telling us where we could find my partner. We apparated to some other church in the vicinity. The place was creepy but we went inside the brick walls and iron gates and there he was.” Ron shook his head before closing his eyes. He could still see the blood on his hands from his frantic efforts to save his partner. “Bastard had hung him from a tree. I cut him down and worked my arse off to save my partner’s life that night. The others hunted Avery while I tried everything I could to keep him alive ‘til we could get to St. Mungo’s.” Ron opened his eyes and looked around the room. “It was one of the worst nights of my life. I did everything I could to save his life and yet I couldn’t do it.”

Ron turned back to his desk and picked up the cold cup of tea he left there. The sugar soothed his throat from the burn of swallowing his tears. Two years later and it still hurt like hell to talk about it to anyone except Hermione. Harry understood. Hermione did too. But talking about it to the other Aurors? He had to project the authority he held.

He took two deep breaths before returning to the lecture stand. “Do you know why my partner at the time was targeted and not me? Do you know why I’m standing here giving you this lecture and not my former partner?” Ron looked around the hall with some disappointment. “Any of you sods have an idea?”

One lone tentative hand went up. “Cadet Smythe, stand up and tell everyone what you think.”

The cadet stood up and looked like a different person in a week. He showed confidence along with self-respect. “If I have to guess, it’s constant vigilance.” Ron smiled. “Very good, cadet. You listened to someone, obviously, on your first day. Good for you. I still remember Mad Eye’s comment about that same thing.

“My partner got sloppy. Instead of taking precautions that morning when the sod was released, he didn’t change any of his routines and he kept to his schedule. It also hurt him that he decided to make a date with a lady who worked at the Leaky Cauldron. Sure enough, Avery broke in while my partner was sleeping and kidnapped him.”

“What about the woman who worked at the Cauldron?” A voice rang out from the middle of the room. “Was she hurt?”

“Oh, she went back to work after my partner fell asleep in one of the upper rooms.” Ron gave a pointed look out at the crowd.

“How did you find the sod?” Another voice rang out.

“We didn’t. We were hunting the country for him and it was like looking for a wand in a lake. The only way we tracked him down was because he was tired of torturing my partner.” Ron’s face grew hard. “The sick bastard strung up my partner just to taunt us. But he could have been like the other sick gits during the war and made folks just _disappear_.”

Ron looked around the room again. Hermione was now sitting up next to Harry, listening to what he reviewed for her. She smiled and he returned it before looking back at his class.

“So what did we learn from this terrible ordeal? Plenty. But I want to know from you, the cadets and Apprentices, what you think and what ideas you have. I want to see if there is anyone here who has an idea that we didn’t, and how we could have saved the Auror’s life.”

Ron swirled his wand and the display board to his right appeared. “Dig out your quills because we’re going to do a few notes and suggestions on how this played out to the eventual capture of the bastard.”

Ron took comments from the floor from the cadets and apprentices, explaining every idea that might have worked and what hadn’t worked. Within fifteen minutes, the entire board was filled and almost all suggestions were struck out as a failure. The only one left on the board was from Cadet Smythe.

“Cadet, come up here and explain your suggestion that wasn’t tried.”

The young man slowly walked up to the board that was adjacent to Ron and looked over the entire listing. Various suggestions cropped up, from interrogating fellow fiends to watching his supposed residence.

“Well, from listening to the descriptions you gave to us, and also suggestions to what the other students gave, it made no sense. Avery at the time was acting out of revenge, not out of concern for his well-being. I presumed he targeted you first since you are a war hero and when he couldn’t get to you or your family, he went after your partner. That’s why he waited anywhere from 24 to 48 hours before attacking.” The cadet looked around the board at the other suggestions. “He acted rash, going after an Auror. But he was also meticulous, knowing where to hide where he could work without being disturbed.”

Ron briefly smiled.

“He had a safe house, where he could work. Since you didn’t mention that he had any property, he probably used someone else’s place, either a magically secured flat or a place under a _Fidelus_ charm. And from the way you described his wounds, he had time to work him over. Torture means time to work, not using his wand to kill him outright. But he was also taunting the Aurors, for bringing him in again yet getting away. _Guilty as sin, Free as a bird_.” The cadet looked around and grimaced. “Sorry. My Gramma told me that one summer when she visited from abroad.”

The cadet looked back to the board. “But looking at this, and what was tried and failed to succeed, you’d not have caught him in those three days, not with his tactics. You might have caught him in a month if you got lucky.”

“And why do you think that, cadet?”

“Three days just wasn’t long enough to track everything possible. Even with 100 Aurors on the case checking everything, it just wasn’t enough manpower to accomplish the task of tracking him down. His lack of property ownership or signature on a flat made it almost impossible to track him.”

Ron smiled even wider. He turned to the class and grinned. “The cadet is right. 3 days is not long enough to track a kidnapped Auror when the kidnapper doesn’t own property in the country. Even checking out friends and helpers, with a full complement of wands, it wasn’t enough.”

Ron turned back to the proud cadet standing next to him. “Then what do you propose, cadet, on how that could be rectified?”

“I’d say something simple, like a charm worn on an anklet or bracelet. It’d not foolproof but it’d help in most situations.”

“Thank you, cadet. You get full marks today for your insight.”

Ron checked his watch and saw that he only had five minutes remaining. “Any other questions before we leave today?”

“Can you tell us about the kidnapping of the Floo director’s daughter?”

Ron looked up at the young woman who asked the question. “And you are?”

“Junior Auror Alexis Carrington, sir.”

“Well, Junior Auror Carrington, I can’t talk about that case since it’s still sealed to the Wizengamot. I will not cover that case in this seminar class. Besides, that case was barmy from the start.”

The junior Auror hunkered down into her chair some and pouted.

“If you want to talk about that case, ask your Senior Mentor who might tell you some of it that isn’t in the papers or in the legal record.” Ron glared around the room. “Otherwise, no one talks about it.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Nice try though.”

Another hand went up. “What about the case involving – “

Ron knew where that question was leading and he didn’t want to talk about it either. “I expect three cadets in my office today playing chess with me. Office hours open in two hours. Class dismissed.”

Ron turned on his heel and walked out. He didn’t even mention what the next class topic would be.

* * *

Ron sealed his door to his office and put his feet up. He wanted a beverage stronger than tea but Hermione would frown at him for using alcohol as a coping mechanism. Then again, she didn’t mind him getting pissed and rampaging in their flat that night, or the furious copulating they would have once he burned out the anger from the case he talked about today.

She promised him healthy coping when they were both home tonight.

So he settled for tea and some quiet, hoping the memories would go back into their cubbyholes where they belonged.

A stag cantered into the room and looked at Ron. “Open the door you bugger.”

Ron flicked his wand at the door and Harry slid inside before locking it again.

“Alright there, Ron?”

He shook his head. “You know that night was shite.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m here and not your wife.”

Ron put his head in his hands on top of the desk. “You think I wanted to tell everyone about that night? It was bad enough talking about it today. But teaching those sods is more important than my comfort, right?”

Harry took a seat on the end of the desk. Ron didn’t bother to look up at his friend, his brother from another mother, and his brother in everything that was important. “You did everything you could to keep him alive that night. You used the training that Audrey showed you but he was already pretty far gone when we got there and you cut him down.”

“Still doesn’t help that I couldn’t save him.”

“Yeah, I know. “

“You would.”

“Yeah, still do.”

The men sat in silence. Harry knew to wait for Ron out and Ron knew that Harry was patient with him.

Ron looked up at Harry with a distant look on his face. “Got a locket I can shove a sword through right about now?”

Harry smirked. “No, but I can take you for some cottage pie at the Leaky to help you drown out your sorrows.”

“You know me too well.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re not practically married.”

“Fuck no, that’s what we have wives for, to shag silly when things get too much to handle.”

“Yeah. But I gotta say, you’re not my type.”

“What, too fuckin’ fantastic for you to handle?”

“Hardly. Your hair is too short for my tastes.”

“And yours doesn’t feel right under my fingertips.”

Harry opened the door and looked at his taller friend. “When were you touching my hair?”

“How can I not? It’s everywhere when I’m trying to wake you from talking in your sleep. I swear if I hear you moaning – “

“Alright, I get it.”

Ron turned and locked his door. “Dunno about you, but I’m starving.”

“What else is new?”

* * *

A/N2: Originally posted on Fanfiction dot net.


	6. Outrunning the Villains

* * *

Ron sat with his back to the wall of the Leaky Cauldron, watching Harry devour a double order of Fish and chips. “When did you start eating like me?”

“I had training with the cadets this morning. My legs are still aching trying to outrun those kids.”

“Kids,” Ron chortled. “We’re barely older than they are. But then you’re possibly going grey at 25.”

“Yeah, but I still have to keep up with them. Speaking of, when are you released from this duty?”

“Oh I’ve got another few seminars to teach, it seems. I’m teaching so the Seniors can stay on their cases until the term ends then they will either place the cadets in MLS or the top marks will get a Senior and be called Apprentices. Senior Auror Jones is about to be finished with her apprentice and pick up another one. The Aurors will take the juniors and hopefully get them up to speed. But then you know that.

“As for Kingsley and Robards, they want to talk about surveillance techniques and also following the chain of command in crisis situations. I’m sure I’ll be back on field duty by the end of March. You know the department doesn’t stop working if I’m not out there doing shite. But now that the last of the fugitives from the War are caught, what are we going to do now? How can the department continue not that it’s off war footing like we’ve been on the last few years?”

“That’ll change once Robards gets his thumb unstuck.” Harry finished a piece of fish and looked at Ron. “When will you talk about Mum’s case?”

“I think that’s going to be the next to last case. I’ve decided that I’ll talk about the issue with Greyback last. I don’t want the kids slacking off before we get to the end of this term for them. They need the important stuff before we talk the way that night was completely mucked up. But I want the kids to know when cases go right since I’ve only talked about cases that have gone completely wrong.”

“Greyback was during the fighting at Hogwarts,” Harry replied redundantly. “That wasn’t an Auror case; that was every man fighting for personal survival.”

“I know but the kids are staying in their seats learning because they want to hear how I _singlehandedly_ took down the monster.”

“You didn’t. Everyone and their grandmother know that. But I guess the rumors are believed faster than the facts are. Typical rubbish, that is.”

“I know and that’s what bothers me. No one bothers to remember that Neville actually killed him. No, they remember me, on my back, nearly getting bit, and him dying with my hands around his throat. No one bothers to remember that Neville blasted him.” Ron shoved a chip in his mouth. “No one wants to contemplate having that bastard be blown away and being covered in blood once he died. That grotty mess was something I never want to see again.”

“It’s not like Neville’s not a hero, not after killing Nagini. But no, they remember the bloody news article 2 days later, saying I killed Greyback with my bare hands. They remember him for killing Nagini with Gryffindor’s sword.” Ron looked around and saw no one looking their way. “Damn Skeeter. They don’t remember the rest of the shite that happened.” Ron picked up a piece of fish and held it. “It’s like people want to forget the grotty shit that happened and only remember the best parts, like Voldemort falling over dead or Mum blasting Bellatrix.” He took a bite. “They didn’t get it completely right and that bothers me. I get them mucking things up but to do it intentionally?”

“Did you expect the papers to give you a fair shake?”

“Nah,” Ron drank the rest of his butterbeer. “But facts should be important. It’s like someone intentionally whitewashed the whole damn thing.”

“It’s the Daily Prophet with Rita Skeeter working at the paper. Fat chance she’s keeping facts straight. She’s the reason they stayed running once the publisher Parkinson had been murdered.”

Ron fingered the leftover paper surrounding his fish. “Did the Aurors ever figure out who murdered him?”

“Nah. We can’t tell for certain who did the actual deed. Might have been Bellatrix herself for all we know. So many of the Death Eaters died that day and the ones who lived ran. It’s not like they’d fess up to his murder.

Harry sat quietly for a moment. “They’ve asked Pansy but she says she can’t talk about it.”

Ron shoved a piece of fish in his mouth, talking over a mouthful, “You mean she won’t talk, will she?”

“I don’t expect she will.”

Ron laughed slightly. “Not like Charlie didn’t ask her, did he? And He’d have told me if she told him. If she didn’t tell him, she’d not tell anyone. My guess is Dolohov but unless Pansy talks, we’re only guessing.”

“My guess is that she blames him for what happened, whether he put his wand to her father or not. But then there was plenty of blame to go around for all the deaths.” Harry finished his chips. “Do you think they’ll try Avery for it? He goes to trial next month.”

“Why not? He’s the last one alive. They could pin it on him or he might blame Lestrange. You know none of them will admit being responsible for individual murders, well, ‘cept Lestrange. But he’s a strange one anyway.”

Harry sat back and looked around the pub. Witches and wizards came and went, with Hannah running the bar with her usual aplomb and efficiency. “So what are you going to talk about next?”

“I thought about the dangers of talking with the media.”

Harry sat quietly since he never talked to them if he could help it.

“I know old man Lovegood isn’t that intrusive ‘cept when we feed him an article to get Luna another trip abroad but what about teaching the younger ones about being quiet with the press?”

Harry snorted, thinking of the first time after the war ended he met Xenophilius and saw the man cowering behind his daughter the entire time. “He’s still frightened I’m going to hex him for betraying us, all these years later.”

“I admit he’s like Luna but stranger. But we’d talk to him first, breaking that rule when we have a hard case come up.” Ron looked around the room and saw no one bothering to pay attention to them. “You remember the fall-out from the article in the Prophet when the reporter splashed your wedding information on the front page, relegating Mum’s kidnapping to page three.”

“Kingsley pulled his weight to get that put on the front page. How would the public have reacted to the realization that Death Eaters were still on the loose, kidnapping witches while out shopping? He put my wedding information out, as gossip, to take Mum off the front page. That was his choice, to protect Mum further. I certainly didn’t mind, for public affairs reasons.”

Ron laughed out loud, earning a look from Hannah.

Harry spoke up over his wheezing laughter. “And what about you, you hypocrite? You were cackling like a banshee because Romilda reported it a fortnight later after our stunt because Kingsley said so. She was snide to Ginny for that and Ginny still hasn’t forgiven anyone for that antic.”

“And I seem to recall you getting shirty a few times with Romilda too.” Ron cheeked back. “At least that’s what you told me later that evening when we came over for dinner.”

“It worked, didn’t it, getting her off my back. Romilda never did talk with Ginny after that incident, did she? And it’s not like Ginny to forgive anyone for either slagging you off or what she did to me.”

Harry laughed, mostly to himself for what they did in the Ministry that fine Monday morning.

“So are you going to discuss the Brown case with the class in the seminar?”

“I’m sealed to the Wizengamot still over that case. And besides, how can I? Those murders were connected to the Floo Director’s daughter. Breaking that case was how we made the break in finding Avery and Dolohov. It’s a bloody miracle someone made the connection and gave us the idea. Without her idea, we’d still be hunting those gits and probably have more blood and bodies on our wands than what is healthy for anyone.”

“Maybe you can talk about that part of the case. The kids need to know about chasing all leads, not just the obvious ones. Even small clues can lead to huge benefits. Maybe you can talk about teamwork and trusting others on the support staff that has ideas outside the box. This is a team effort, unlike before where it was mostly one or two men doing all of the legwork.”

Ron looked at Harry yet his mind was further away. “I keep thinking and after going over that case repeatedly, I realized that we did everything right and yet there’s nothing we could have done to prevent the murders on the case.”

“We’re not in the murder prevention business, Ron. We’re here for the paperwork and aftermath and clean-up. We go after them after the nastiness is done, to apprehend. Our job isn’t bringing vigilante justice to those who do wrong to others. Its blind luck when we prevent a murder or kidnapping.”

“It still sucks Dragon’s balls sometimes. We get there and there’s shit to clean up and we have to do it, or deal with the consequences.”

“And that’s why they pay us so much. Someone has to do the grotty work of Law enforcement, right?”

“Yeah.” Ron bit into his last chip. “Doesn’t make it any easier to forget the shit we see.”

“You think I forget it?”

“No. And you probably cope with it as best as I do.”

“I do, now. You can thank Ginny for that much of the time. But sometimes it’s elf-made wine or Firewhiskey.”

“But not so much as Moody indulged in.”

“We learned what not to do from him, I reckon.”

“Yeah, we did.”

Harry tossed down his galleons on the table. “Come on, ya git. You’ve got 2 more classes to teach today before you’re free.”

“Yeah, let’s get back. I need some awake time with Hermione tonight.”

“Remember to lock the Floo so Mum isn’t beating on your bedroom door at midnight, complaining why you won’t answer her owls.”

“Once was bad enough. I don’t need a repeat performance.”

“I’m surprised Hermione didn’t make you sleep on the couch a week after that time.”

“Who says she didn’t?” Ron muttered. He stepped into the Cauldron’s fireplace first, yelling for the Ministry.

* * *

“Auror Weasley?” An older woman with bright blonde and pink hair came ambling down the hallway where Ron and Harry were standing.

“Ah, Ms. Blunt. We were talking about you over lunch. What can we do for you? How can we help you?”

“My apologies, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, but this came in while you were teaching the first class this morning. I went to your office shortly thereafter but no one was in.”

Ron took the parchment from her and saw the Minister’s official seal on it. “Did the Minister say it was urgent?”

“He said it would behoove you to read it before the next class.”

“Then I will do so. Thank you.”

She looked around the hallway for a moment. “If it’s about the Brown case, can you leave my name in particular out of it? I don’t want anyone thinking the worst of me.”

“Who said you had?” Ron looked at her with a peculiar look on his face and waited until she started smiling.

“Thank you, sir. I knew I could depend on you.”

“No one blames you in the least for having a relationship with a fiend. No one blames you for the choice you made. And I certainly don’t blame you for dating someone who wasn’t the best person for you. We all make mistakes. Some of our former flames just have more nefarious issues than calling you by a rather silly pet name.”

“But he was so charming when I met him. Time with him was exciting. I didn’t know he was going to turn so nasty so fast.”

“Sometimes we look for what we want rather than what we need. I’ve been there too and I know you’ll meet a charming someone eventually.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. If you’ll excuse me.” Ms. Blunt turned and departed, leaving the men boggled.

“I swear Hermione makes her work too hard.”

“Yeah, I think so too. That wife of yours is a brutal solicitor.” Harry smirked. Ron punched Harry in the arm.

“So, what did Kingsley say?”

Ron broke the wax seal on the parchment and scanned the contents. “Kingsley has given me permission to talk about the Brown case. I can’t talk the particulars or those involved, but I can discuss how teamwork breaks cases, along with using the talents of those on the team to achieve the goal.

“But you teach that class next week.”

“I will now. I’ll get Hermione to help me craft it too. She knows it inside and out and will help me keep the sensitive things protected and not discussed in class.”

“Ron?”

“Yeah, Harry?”

“You and Hermione make a really good team.”

Ron grinned. “You just now figured that out?”

The men shared a laugh before going into the lecture hall.

* * *

“Hermione, I’m stuck.”

She looked up from the stack of paperwork on her desk to see her husband at his own desk, mired in books and crumpled parchment. “Stuck in what way?”

“I’m talking the Brown case next week and I have to give some information on it without divulging the confidential and sensitive part of it. I’m stuck trying to do that without breaking the Wizengamot seal I’m under for the case.”

“And you want help tip-toeing on the particulars.”

“Please? Teaching is going so well but it’s your work that’s making it work. I have the outline going but then I talk the information the kids need and it works.”

“And you’re stressed because it’s going so well?”

“Yeah, but it’s cause you have the information distilled that I can teach them what they need rather than the boring stuff in the manual. The kids really get it but it seems like the class is going to crash and burn when I get to Mum’s kidnapping or when I talk about Greyback.”

“It won’t, dear. Everything you’re teaching is important. Part of the instruction is to teach the kids what hasn’t worked and what does. Part of it, though, is to teach the kids how others messed up and got hurt, or worse, and why those men and women aren’t in the Aurors anymore. Those who should be there will rise to the challenge of your teaching and the rest can work for me in MLS.”

“And the Aurors who died while on duty? I need to talk about them too, don’t I?”

“The kids need to learn about them too, including Tonks. You know I liked her but she was foolish to rush into battle 11 days after Teddy was born. That was stupid, Auror or not.”

“Hermione, it was a worst case scenario. She was an Auror and chose to leave Teddy with Andromeda and rush to Remus’ side. I doubt she thought any further than putting her wand to use.”

“She was foolish, rushing into the situation.” Hermione bristled. “I know Voldemort’s regime decimated the Aurors before that day. I know because I saw the records Percy kept while he worked inside the Ministry. They forcibly removed every Auror who wasn’t a Pureblood. They removed a hundred Aurors and three-fourths of them were never heard from again. Not even the Malfoy’s could give testimony to what happened to them. But she was still on medical leave when everything happened.”

“She was an Auror. She knew the risks, just like the others did.”

Hermione turned back to her work. “I think you should talk about Tonks, including how reckless it was for her to go into battle after so short of a time after giving birth. She could have stayed home – “

“And do what, Hermione? She kept so many people alive, including protecting Astoria. You know that better than I do. If she’d stayed out of it, and we’d lost, they’d hunt her down too – including Teddy.”

Hermione ignored his thought. “And would Bellatrix have targeted Astoria if Tonks wasn’t there helping her with her broken leg?

“Well, I dunno Hermione. Let’s dig the bitch up from wherever Narcissa buried her and ask her.” Ron threw his quill onto his desk, spraying ink everywhere.

“Fine.” Hermione turned back to her work and refused to acknowledge her husband any further.

“You’re going to get shirty with me because I disagree with what you think regarding Tonks? Well, I don’t. I think she was foolish but she was also an Auror first, and had a duty to the fight.”

“What about her duty to Teddy?” She turned towards Ron and he saw the fire burning in her eyes. “I know you think that being an Auror is paramount, but I disagree. When she had Teddy, he was the most important person, not her duty to her job.”

Ron sighed, dramatically. “I doubt she thought anything further than he was in good hands that night, with Andromeda, and that Remus needed her more than Teddy. I don’t think she imagined that she’d perish by her Aunt’s wand. No, I think she was there just to protect Remus as best as she could and it still wasn’t enough, at least not against Dolohov.”

“And yet you took him down, too. How many people died by his wand? How much justice did you enact towards him?” She saw him scowling. “How many years was he still free after that day?”

“Too damn many and it’s not like I was trying to kill him.”

“I know. But he’s still dead and Avery is still in a cell in Azkaban because of your efforts. You said it so yourself, on Mum’s case: things happen and you can only plan so much and then it’s adapt and overcome.”

Ron sat back in his chair, pondering what his wife just said. She saw his pensive look and sighed. “So why not ask the students in your class tomorrow what they think?”

“I can tell you right now what they think: they are going to say that she was an Auror first, a mum second. Her duty was to the greater wizarding kind – not to her child. I can tell you that, almost to a man.”

“And as a woman, I say that’s being short-sighted.”

“You know men are foolish, sometimes.” Ron stood up from his desk and leaned over to hug his wife. “And this is why we need wives to make us better men and better Aurors. We need someone to occasionally remind us why we are doing this blasted job. My job right now is to teach these brash kids, barely old enough to shave with their wands, how to live through the shit we deal with.” Ron let his wife go and went back to his desk. “How about if I ask the class and then present your advocacy argument, along with bringing Mrs. Malfoy into the class to discuss such? I bet she’d beg to differ, just out of spite.”

Hermione turned her face up towards him. “Which life is more important, Ron?”

“That’s not for me to decide unless it’s yours and our eventual children. And then you come first.”

“Then maybe you can teach that tomorrow, about the ramifications of the choices made out on a mission.”

Ron stopped writing and looked across the small room. “You’re kidding!”

“I’m not. Tell them the hard choices you’ve made and the price paid. They need to hear it, at least from someone they respect and look up to. Your double wands give you that soapbox for the discussion.”

“Soapbox? I don’t stand on a soapbox. What are you on about?”

“Nevermind. But talk to them about Tonks and the choices made and the price paid for those choices. They need to realize the magnitude of their decisions.” She turned back towards her piles of parchment. “They need to comprehend how serious the job is they want to take, and how heavy that burden is.” She scratched on her parchment. “Maybe that’s what Tonks can teach to the kids, through you.”

* * *

Ron stood at the lectern with the auditorium filled to capacity. Fresh faces were present as well as some of the previous members. More apprentices and junior Aurors filled the seats while less of the leadership was present.

Once face surprised Ron, from the top row. Auror Hemera Jones was present, seated next to Harry and Hermione, talking quietly. He saw her stern stare before acknowledging him at the lectern.

“Aurors and apprentices, Seniors and Juniors… we’re going to talk today about choices made in the field. We’re also going to talk about the chain of command in a crisis situation. Surveillance will be our next topic, but for this session, we’re going to talk when a mission is cocked up. We’re going to talk about the importance of knowing what’s important on a mission and if you’re faced with the worst case, what you can do to mitigate it.”

“Now, on a mission, you’ve got the Senior who is leading it, along with two Aurors, and one junior, working as a four-man unit. Now, on missions, depending on the severity of such, there can be multiple teams working it. Or, if it’s surveillance, it’s a two-man team working. But we’ll talk that next week. We’re going to talk the mission this week and what choices you have when things go sideways and get mucked up.”

“Now, I’ve talked about losing my partner on a case involving Avery. I also lost my senior on the case I’ll talk about in two weeks, involving my Mum’s kidnapping. But they aren’t my focus today. No, I want to talk about two other Aurors who are important in this department. We’re going to talk about Alastair Moody and Nymphadora Tonks. Now, who in the department worked with Tonks?”

A few hands of the Aurors and Seniors went up. “Senior Auror Jones, can you tell us here how it was working with Tonks? I knew her personally but I never worked alongside her.”

Senior Auror Jones rose from her seat on the top row and walked deftly down the steps. Her three-inch heels on her boots put her close to Ron’s actual height. Her black trousers and punk band shirt stood out from the rest. But what made her stand out was her scanning of the room, focusing on a few faces with her scowl.

“Auror Tonks was something else, that’s for sure. She was Auror Moody’s junior. She progressed quickly up the ranks due to her knowledge of procedure, her capabilities at surveillance, and also her skills on a broom. She was clumsy but made up for it ten times over in her spell-casting and her decision-making process while on missions. For all the times she was out in the field, on an assignment, she only raised her wand as a last resort. She preferred to use alternate methods of apprehension rather than as a first resort. She earned her promotion to Senior many times over.

“Many of you would be wise to emulate her lead, and the lead of this Auror standing here.”

“What else can you tell us about Auror Tonks, Senior Jones?”

“She was a good Auror and took her duty oaths seriously. She had a child and shortly thereafter, was fighting at Hogwarts. I dunno if I’d have made her choice but she did and now she’s gone. But so I’m told, she saved a dozen lives that night either protecting others or taking down Death Eaters. But she obviously felt the choice was easy, leaving a son behind to fight. So if you think that a dozen lives were worth hers, and the loss of a parent to her child, then that’s your choice, even if I’d probably not have made it.”

“And Auror Moody, Senior Jones?”

“He was my Mentor coming into the Aurors and I was aggrieved when I heard he had been killed. He’s one of the few men I could look in the eye and respect for his work and work ethic. He was a fearless Auror and a damn fine one in battle, wand to wand. I’ve never seen a better dueler with a wand and I’ve faced a fair share in my life. Those two were probably the best work team I’ve had the pleasure of working alongside, besides these two pains in my arse known as Weasley and Potter.”

Ron, along with the rest of the room, broke out in laughter at her assessment.

“Trusting your partner with your life, and their life in your hands is how you survive missions, people. Procedures established when your grandfathers were toddlers work most of the time.” She looked out over the gathering and saw a few heads nod in agreement. “But I’m also not stuck in my ways to realize that we, as Aurors, have to update our methods and tactics to grow more efficient and better in this new world. The Wizards we face now are smarter, with better tools at their disposal and we either have to evolve and reform or we’ll become redundant.

“So those of you out in the audience, you are the vanguard of the new Aurors, who can bring new ideas to the mix and will help us better serve the Ministry and Wizarding Britain as we continue into this new century and Millennium.”

Auror Jones stuck her hand out to Ron, shaking it firmly before leaving the stage and exiting the room.

“Now, I’m opening the floor for discussion. We’re going to talk about Obligations and duty and choices. Cadet Stewart, would you have made the same choice Auror Tonks made, putting duty and your wand first in an all-call fight, even if you were only at half your abilities?”

“I would. My duty comes first.”

“Even if you had a newborn at home?”

“I’m an Auror first, a parent second. I wouldn’t leave my child an orphan if that’s what you’re saying.”

“Junior Carrington, what about you? Would you make the same choice?”

“No, sir. My child comes first. If I’m on leave from the Aurors for giving birth, then my child is my priority, not fighting. I’m off-duty and only a hindrance in a fight.”

“But you’re a foolish woman then, shirking your responsibility to the greater good than standing up to fight.” Another apprentice spoke up first. Ron tried to remember the apprentice’s name and was boggled. “Either you are an Auror, with all the duties and responsibilities, or you’re only playing at one when the spells are flying. Which is it, Carrington?”

She turned on the apprentice in question, hissing at his insinuation. “You’re the one to talk, considering you refuse to raise your wand in a duel in the training sessions.”

The other apprentice snarled back. “Answer the question, you bint. Are you an Auror or playing at one?”

Ron pointed his wand and silently spelled the young man to silence. “The next time you speak to her like that, you’re waking up in the training room as a sparring dummy. Got it?” He released the charm while the dark-haired wizard was fuming mad, almost to the point of smoke spilling out his ears.

“If she can’t put her duty first, to the Auror corps and for the greater Wizarding kind, she shouldn’t be here. She’s worthless if she’s out on bloody leave for popping a sprog out.”

Ron bit the side of his cheek, remembering that he was taking the advocacy position that his wife insisted on. “What about an Auror who is in St. Mungo’s for a work injury and is on medical leave three months? If they step out into a wand fight injured, they are asking to be killed too. Are they foolish to do that? So what makes her choices any different?”

“She’s putting her child first, not the Corps.”

“You’re not smart enough to be in here, Mallory, if you can’t see – “

“You’re a fool, Mallory.” Kingsley interrupted the wizard’s diatribe. “Let’s drop you into a Dragon Preserve, wandless, and see if you can survive it. It’s the same thing.”

Kingsley walked down the outer aisle to the lectern. “Anyone who goes into a wand fight at anything less than completely able is asking to be injured or killed. Sometimes, the injury is worse than being murdered.” Kingsley looked out around the gathering and saw a few of the grizzled veterans nodding their heads. “We talk about Tonks and Moody, but who knows about Ben Carpenter?”

Only a small handful of heads bowed in recognition. “No, no one talks about Ben Carpenter ‘cept when they are deep in their drink after a bungled mission. For those who don’t recognize the name, Ben Carpenter was an Auror about fifteen years ago. He had a bright future with us and was a dedicated Auror. But then he went on a mission north of Edinburgh, to track down a werewolf who was infecting children. We thought it was Greyback and he was tasked to investigate.

“Ben made great strides quickly, getting people to talk about what happened. He was out investigating one night – happened to be the night of a Full Moon – and was caught unawares when he was attacked. He was mauled but survived the attack.

“The people of the sleepy village found him the next morning, barely alive, and he was emergency ported to St. Mungo’s. He was treated as best as possible considering the extent of his injuries was severe. See, the attacker broke his back before biting him.

“He’s in a special ward, not in the Janus Thickey ward but more secure. He turns every full moon into a werewolf – but because his back was broken before he was bitten, his injury is permanent. The Healers and medi-witches keep him comfortable but also secured so he doesn’t injure himself further during the full moon. Wolfsbane potions only work so well.” Kingsley looked out over the audience. “Even the most capable of Aurors are occasionally injured or killed in the line of duty. When an Auror isn’t in top form, the chances increase ten-fold. So don’t harass anyone in the corps about their fitness for performing the job. That’s the Director’s decision, along with the Auror Healer, not yours.

“And furthermore, if you think that being a woman in the Corp because of her ability to have children hinders her, I beg to differ. Senior Auror Jones proves her abilities daily on the hardest of missions. So did Auror Tonks. When they are admitted, and even the men only are admitted at a 20% clip, they are the best, the brightest, and the best. We aren’t in the field of admitting just to admit, apprentice. You’re here because you show the skills and aptitude to make the grade. If not, you’d not be occupying that seat. You’d be working as a bailiff for Solicitor Granger. Isn’t that correct, Junior Carrington?”

“Yes, sir!” She barked back.

“Weasley, you may continue.” The Minister walked out, leaving Ron boggled. He quickly took back control of the room. “Are there any other questions from the audience?”

“Cadet Darcy Bennett, sir. Can we ask about Auror Moody?”

“Proceed, cadet.”

Ron listened and they discussed Mad-Eye Moody for the rest of the class hour.

* * *

A/N1: Much of my inspiration for this chapter is from the continued argument of whether women are fit in a combat force. Considering it’s the Aurors and that Magic isn’t predicated on physical strength but abilities of magic combined with wits, it seemed fitting to include this thought. - _DG_

A/N2: Originally posted at Fanfiction dot net.


	7. Running towards the problem

* * *

 

“So we never got around to discussing the Brown case and Kingsley said I could talk about it.” Ron snuggled into the bedclothes further to find a comfortable spot.

 

“Are you up for it? It was a hard one and it wasn’t pleasant to cope with even when you caught him.” Hermione curled into him, feeling chilled suddenly and finding Ron a heater already.

 

“Well, I can’t talk about particulars but I can talk about teamwork and following leads. That’s what I’m given leave for.”

 

“So how can you explain it?”

 

“I can talk about working as a team and listening to your team and support staff, about following leads and doing the necessary legwork. It’s not all missions and other rubbish. Sometimes it’s sitting in the library with your wife doing dead useful yet boring as hell research.”

 

Hermione smiled. “Admit it, you like when you get to work with me.”

 

“I do now, once you moved over to MLS and understand our job better. Back when you were in Regulation of Magical Creatures, you were a nightmare.” He looked over his chest and saw her looking at him knowingly.

 

“You mean on your Mum’s kidnapping case.”

 

“Yeah. But once you understood why we did what we did and how we actually do things, you’ve been a huge help. I think Ms. Blunt is the only one I value more than you when it’s deadlines and stuff on a case.”

 

“That’s almost a compliment, Ron.”

 

“Well, it’s not like I can have you drop what you’re doing and work on my requests for a week to get to the bottom of a case or crack it.”

 

“True. And since I’m a Solicitor and not in the Auror corps, if I’m involved in the case, then it makes it difficult when I’m working in the Wizengamot when I know more than is allowed before the Mugwump.”

 

“And how often have you come across that problem?”

 

“Three times since I became a Solicitor and two of those occasions were directly related to the Lestrange case.”

 

“I’m glad you put him away for good. I also know Mum appreciates it.”

 

“She does. Arthur told me that the day after he was sentenced to Azkaban for the rest of his life was the first night in months that your Mum didn’t have a nightmare and woke up in a flop sweat. I know she had more nightmares after that, so he told us, but that one night’s peaceful rest did wonders for her.”

 

“But you sure gave me hell over that case. I’d never seen you fight so hard for what you thought was right.”

 

“I did and you’re glad I did it. It kept you above reproach as well as Harry. Robards acknowledged I was doing the right thing, and for the right reasons, but that you and the Aurors were right, too. It came down to methods and worst case scenarios to rescue someone. We both had to do what we did.”

 

“It still bloody well hurt that you didn’t trust me, though.”

 

“Ron, I’d be a pathetic wife if I didn’t question what the Aurors were doing. They could have easily made you a scapegoat for the situation if they wanted to. But my actions, staying fierce in questioning and challenging kept the responsibility on Robards’ head and not yours.”

 

Ron sat up in the bed and threw his long legs over onto the edge, his feet hitting the floor with a thud. “At least you don’t do that now when a case is time-sensitive.”

 

“And that’s because I know the command structure now. I can challenge Robards directly rather than yelling at you and Harry when it’s not your decision since you’re Aurors and not the Senior on the hop and not the Directorship. Throw in the changes that Kingsley instilled almost immediately afterward from when the Solicitors weren’t available and those problems won’t arise again.” She sat up on the bed and got behind her husband’s bare back. “You might get bent with me when it’s a case but I’ll be damned if they try to blame you for any decisions made that you weren’t in charge of. You might be fiercely protective of me but it’s not a one-way issue, love. Just like you protect me, I’ve got your back first. Sure, I’ll help Harry but you are my priority, even more than my job as Solicitor or my duty to the Wizengamot.”

 

Ron turned and saw the pride on his wife’s face. “You mean that, don’t you?”

 

“I won’t break the law unless it’s a last resort, just like you. But I’d fail you if I didn’t stand up to you before the choices are made and acted upon. I’d rather you be mad at me for standing up to you, and for you, then letting anyone walk over you or treat you less than your worth. You do understand that, right?”

 

“I do but in front of others, it bloody well hurts, Hermione. I know you don’t think about it, being who you are, but it’d be nice if we’d row behind closed doors rather than having everyone including Aunt Muriel watching us. The guys take the piss and the women give me cheek for it.”

 

“Would you rather I save it behind closed doors; just to have the others lay off of you, thinking your wife is compliant? That’s not who I am.”

 

“And if it’s Harry who is questioning things, you don’t say a thing to him, do you? Why is it that I get cheek about such when Harry’s given a pass?”

 

Hermione got up from the bed and went to their bathroom. “Because if it’s because I’m your wife and the men in the Aurors are still some antiquated thinking that because I’m your wife, I should be home raising babies and not speaking up on things I’d have nary a clue on. Well, that kind of thinking can get lost at the bottom of the Black Lake. If anything, because I’m your wife, you should be emboldened to speak up when I challenge you, since you know who you are coming home to – someone who loves you, respects you, and will stand up for you, even when I’m standing up to you.”

 

Ron stood in the doorway to the bathroom and watched her start her morning absolutions.

 

“I’m not asking you to not speak up but I’d be nice if you did such things where the guys didn’t give me grief about it.”

 

“And you should speak up and tell them they’re jealous their wives don’t work with them and that they aren’t as amazing as I am.”

 

Ron chortled. “I think most of them would put a wand to their head first than working with their wives or girlfriends.”

 

“That’s exactly my point. So when will you expect them to respect what I’m doing when you won’t speak up first? No one’s going to give you hell over it. You’ve earned your place and their respect. Use it and help Harry and I make those necessary changes in the department.”

 

She leaned over to wet her toothbrush before scrubbing them.

 

“You heard about what happened in last week’s seminar, didn’t you?”

 

“I did.” She continued brushing her teeth, refusing to look at him.

 

“And did you hear the rest of it?”

 

“I did but not from you.” She put down the toothbrush and picked up her hairbrush. “I don’t expect you to change your thinking but helping the cadets look at the situation not as men but as people first will help. But as long as they are told that girls are only good for being home cooking meals and birthing babies, the Ministry won’t change for the better. Are some women better suited at home? Absolutely. And so are some men. But that should be an individual choice, not one imposed on someone else dictated by people who don’t know enough.”

 

“Is that what has your hair in a twist, because the ignorant cadet said that having babies makes a woman incompetent to be an Auror? You know that’s a load of rubbish. Kingsley and I put that to rest immediately.”

 

“But see, I didn’t hear that part at all, especially from you. I only heard the other bit of gossip and that you stood there and let the cadet speak his mind and shouted down the other apprentice.”

 

“Well, your source was wrong. You should have asked me.”

 

“And you should have told me first, not let it slide almost a week.”

 

“What was there to say, that I have some really stupid cadets? I thought you knew that from sitting in the classes most of the time.”

 

Hermione kept brushing her hair and working her lips to raw.

 

“I can’t read your mind so you’re going to have to tell me what you’re thinking. And even if I could, I’d still ask.”

 

“It bothers me that we’ve done so much to change how the Wizarding world operates and yet there are still some ignorant people who want to keep to tradition, keep the old ways when the old ways are what caused the problem in the first place. Can’t they see the problems that occur when you stick to the old ways without embracing the new ideas that make more sense and help make things better?”

 

Hermione slid past Ron into their room and started getting dressed.

 

“And you know better than I do, love, that some can’t change to save their lives.”

 

“And that’s stupid, Ron.”

 

“I never said Wizards and Witches were all brilliant like you. You’re going to have to drag most kicking and screaming into the modern era. But you know I’m helping as best as I can but some sods and be stubborn, much like the gorgeous woman I’m looking at.”

 

“I won’t stop until I accomplish such.”

 

“I know. Why do you think I’d rather be by your side than opposing what you’re working towards?”

 

She slid the jumper over her blouse and grinned at him. “I thought it was, quoting you, _I’m fantastic shag_.”

 

“Well, that too, but you’re amazing and I get to be with you and you’re stuck with me.”

 

“Rubbish about being stuck. I chose you, even when you didn’t realize it.” She finished dressing, leaving him standing in their room in his pants. “I’ll be in the session today. I want to hear what you have to say about the Brown case, too.”

 

“You know it as well as I do since you helped me sort the notes for the presentation.”

 

“But it doesn’t mean I don’t have a clue about the process or what you were thinking on following the leads or how you integrated Ms. Blunt’s information into the case.”

 

“Well, that’ll be today, won't it?” He leaned over for a kiss on her cheek. “The seminar starts at 10 but I’ll be in my office at 8 am.”

 

“Perfect! I need to be in at half seven to send some memos out.” She stood on her toes and kissed him passionately for a brief moment. “I’m coming home at the regular time tonight for us to have some quality time. It’s been a few days, I reckon.”

 

Ron grinned further. “It has and I miss my wife.”

 

She squeezed his hand a moment. “And I miss my husband.”

 

 

“So class, are there any questions regarding the Brown case?”

 

Half the audience put their hand up.

 

“Cadet Bennett, speak up.”

 

“I was asking, sir, how a member of the Auror support staff came to have knowledge about the fugitive in the Brown case. That sounds almost implausible.”

 

“Bennett, you do realize that there is a larger populace that only thinks of magic as the stuff of fairy tales and folklore, right?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And that it’s only those born into magical families that it’s a non-issue, right?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“So how is it implausible, as you stated that our fugitive actually dated someone in the Ministry and only when they committed the mayhem and chaos that it became relevant?”

 

“It sounds like the member of the support staff was stupid.”

 

“And you’re a tosspot. Haven’t you ever dated before?”

 

“Well, no.”

 

“Then let me explain so you can fathom the situation. The fugitive in question was charming and quite fit, so I’m told. He was polite, kind, and doting when they first started seeing one another socially and personally. It’s only later, once they were in a relationship that his true colors started to show. From post-arrest interviews, he picked her to date because, at first, he was interested in her because she was cute. It was only later when he found out that she worked as a department secretary for the Aurors that he stayed interested. Later, after a few months of seeing one another, they were at a party at the Ministry and he saw Ms. Brown and was instantly besotted and grew obsessed.

 

“The couple in question grew apart quickly because of his obsession. She presumed it was officially over a fortnight later when he hadn’t visited her much less owled her. When he did, he was vicious, telling her that she wasn’t as pretty, or young, or as fetching as his latest obsession. She lost track of him when he quit answering owls. She wrote him off for being a world-class prat.”

 

“It was a few months later when he turned up as the prime suspect in the Brown case. It was her information, given reluctantly, that we were able to track him down. When we captured him, we got the leads for Avery and Dolohov.

 

“So if you’re looking to blame her for not knowing she was dating a potential murderer? Don’t. He never acted out like that. I know because I checked him out once he was a suspect. He was a bit dodgy and slightly barmy but he did nothing to draw attention to his actions.” Ron looked out among the crowd and saw a few faces that looked confunded. “But if you’re thinking of incarcerating those who are potential killers, then we’re no better than that sod Voldemort, or that Toad who is serving the rest of her life in Azkaban.”

 

“But sir, Why can’t we – “

 

“That’s not your job or decision, cadet. Only the Director, with a senior’s input, and a signature from a Solicitor will allow a preventive arrest. To get that the evidence has to be solid, not flimsy. The information we had in the Brown case was flimsy evidence at best because the person he was dating didn’t reside with the suspect nor did she delve too deeply into his life since he was so private. He also never brought her to his flat nor did he talk about things outside of his work.

 

“Had we arrested the suspect, he’d have been out almost immediately because nothing was concrete. It was only much later that we found his planning journals.”

 

A lynx Patronus popped into the auditorium, twirling around to face Ron. **“Auror All Call. Portkeys will leave in approximately three minutes from your room. The destination is The Bog, in the Shropshire Hills west of Birmingham.** There is a Dragon sighting and Pennerley is on fire. All Aurors are required for handling the situation until the Conservationists can arrive from the Welch preserve. Auror Weasley, bring Solicitor Granger with you. She is your duty but you are to stay with Senior Jones and coordinate the Aurors. I repeat Auror Weasley is not to assist, only be on site to coordinate with Senior Jones. Obliviators will be on station soon afterward to assist the Muggles. Solicitor Granger will be the legal advisor for the Obliviators until their advocate arrives.”

 

“You heard the man, queue up. I’m making 10 portkeys. Single file and double time it.” The gathering stood up, proceeding orderly towards the front of the room. Ron pulled his wand, the oaken unicorn hair wand from his holster and picked up various items from the desk. In an orderly fashion, he made portkeys for everyone in the room, leaving him, Harry, and Hermione last. “Is that everyone?”

 

“It is. I made sure that the three of us are last.”

 

“I’m making ours where we are away from the festivities. Once we’re there, we’ll apparate to Senior Jones location and assist from there.” Ron wove his wand in the correct movement, using the book on his desk as the portkey. “When we land, keep that handy, love. I know you’d get barmy if I lost a book.”

 

Hermione scowled at Ron before putting her hand on the blue glowing book. Immediately, they were yanked from the room and landed considerably farther north than their previous location.

 

Ron looked around to take in their surroundings before a spell flew over his head, hitting the tree behind him. He pushed Hermione down behind him and dropped to his knee. He winced from the pain of hitting it on a rock and scanned the surrounding land. “Harry, someone’s spellcasting at us!”

 

Ron received no reply. He turned and saw that Harry was down and Hermione was tending him. “Damn it!” He turned back and erected a shield charm to protect them and give them some time. “Bloody Hell!”

 

He stayed low, using his own body to shield the other two while Hermione tended Harry. “I think I see them, behind that cluster of shrubs next to the trees. I’m going to blast it and see if I can flush them out.”

 

“Where is everyone else, I reckon?” Hermione continued to work on Harry. “I didn’t see what he was hit with and he’s not waking up. We’re going to have to get him to St. Mungo’s and let them treat him.”

 

“I dunno. I thought that we were in the right place. Can you send your Patronus to Senior Jones asking where they are?”

 

Hermione kept her body over Harry and behind Ron, keeping watch behind him. She moved her wand, silently spelling her Otter into existence. “Senior Jones, where are you? We’re at the location in question but Potter is down and Weasley is under attack. Advise.” The otter rushed off into the desolate meadow.

 

“I keep blasting that damn shrub but nothing is happening. I wonder if we were baited into this.”

He turned to see Hermione and heard Harry grunting.

 

Ron glanced over her shoulder and saw two figures creeping up towards them from behind the rocks. Ron stood and performed a spell, capturing them in roping vines. “Got you buggers!” They fell over with a thud.

 

“Ron! Behind you!” Hermione fired a spell off from her wand, knocking four more down who had taken advantage of Ron’s distraction to try and attack. “That was close.”

 

A spell erupted from a fold in the ground and hit Hermione, knocking her into Harry. “Ow!”

 

Ron spun and fired, hitting Hermione’s attacker square in the chest. He was blasted back thirty feet, landing with a thud into the soft ground.

 

“Hermione!” Ron fell to his knees and checked her. Her head was bleeding and she was groaning.

 

A soft pop of apparition spun Ron around, his wand pointed outward. Senior Auror Jones stood before him, looking murderous. “Tell me the first time my wife met you before I stun you.”

 

“It was in the meeting with McGonagall a week before the term started at Hogwarts. Now ask me what you really want to know.”

 

“Did you do this?”

 

“No, I didn’t. One of the other Aurors did. I captured him when we landed because someone pointed him out before their farm was incinerated. He’s in a cell in the Ministry already. The dragon was a diversion because you and Harry were the target. These sods,” she flung her arm behind her at the four who were struggling against the vine bonds, “were hired thugs, supposed to capture both of you as hostages. But Hermione’s presence mucked up the plans.”

 

“Help,” she groaned.

 

Ron turned and dropped back to his knees. “Will you get Harry to St. Mungo’s? Hermione tried to revive him and said that it was more than just a stunning spell. She got hit when two more attacked and she protected my back.”

 

Hemera moved next to Harry and dropped a rubbish piece of parchment onto his chest. “I’ll make this a portkey and get him there.” Her dark face and eyes betrayed nothing. “She’d have been a terrific Auror if she’d been able to control her fear.”

 

“You know what we faced during the war,” Ron said stoically. “And you know what she went through.”

 

“I know.” The parchment turned blue and they swirled away towards London.

 

Ron pulled his wife into his lap and saw the bleeding had stopped. “Hermione, open your eyes.”

 

She did and groaned again. “My head hurts.”

 

“I know. It’ll be better in a minute, love.” Ron opened her beaded bag and pulled the portkey book out. _Auror Field medicine manual, eighty-first edition_. He pointed his wand at it and saw it turned the book blue. “We’re going to St. Mungo’s now. Hold on.” They swirled away towards London and the infamous landing area.

 

Ron landed on his feet with Hermione in his arms, hitting the charmed landing area much softer than the last time he arrived here. “Auror Emergency. Woman down.”

 

Two medi-witches ran out with a magical gurney and took Hermione onto it. “Solicitor Granger was hit with a spell, I dunno what. She is bleeding from the head and I dunno what other spell damage she has.”

 

“We’ll take it from here.”

 

The medi-witches departed with Hermione between them into the ward.

 

“Report, Senior Auror Weasley.”

 

He turned and saw Gawain Robards with Senior Auror Jones. “Senior?”

 

“All that’s left is Kingsley signing the parchment but that’s a formality. I turned it in after your capture of Avery.” Robards stood tall. “Now report.”

 

“Yes, sir. We got the summons from Kingsley to report to Shropshire since there was a rogue dragon loose. I followed protocol and sent everyone off.”

 

“Proceed.” Director Robards kept his wand in his hand and his eyes on the hallway.

 

“The Aurors were sent off and I made ours a distance away from the Dragon. We were to stay distant, according to the Minister and then help coordinate. But when we landed, we were set upon by eight people.”

 

“From what I gather in the preliminary investigation, we were baited into it for the purpose of kidnapping Potter and Weasley. Granger mucked up everything.”

 

“How the bloody hell did we not know it was a trap? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to know?”

 

“Now you see the problem, Weasley. You and Senior Jones are going to get to the bottom of it. We need to know why you were targeted, along with Potter. My guess is that the dragon was a necessary diversion to get to you since you’re protected here in London. It might be revenge or something worse. But the two of you will find it out.”

 

“And our infiltrator, the one Senior Jones arrested and put in a cell.”

 

“We’ll know soon enough. For now, though, you’re going to stay teaching while working undercover. You’re too valuable, you and Potter, to be held for ransom or worse. But it also appears that we need more secure means of communicating between our seniors and Directorship. Things could have turned much worse if Granger wasn’t there and could summon help.”

 

“There’s the Weasley Mirrors like we talked about. We can keep that as a secure information line for the Senior Aurors and with the Ministry and Directorship.”

 

“We’ll talk about it once we have the information from the suspect.”

 

“Auror Potter? Solicitor Granger?”

 

The three of them turned and saw the Healer on duty coming out. “Auror Potter will be released in about an hour. He was hit with three stunning spells and Solicitor Granger wasn’t quite able to wake him. But we have but he’ll be off duty the rest of the week.

 

“Solicitor Granger was hit with a conjunctivitis curse along with a stunner. She fell and hit her head. She’s to be released in an hour, once we have her head settled down. She’ll need to rest up a couple of days before returning to work. ”

 

“A conjunctivitis spell?”

 

“I can only guess but the attacker thought if she couldn’t see the shield would go down so they could get you. They didn’t anticipate that you were the one holding the shield spell up against them.”

 

“Damn fine work there, Weasley, fighting off 8 and taking them out.”

 

“Hermione took out two of them.”

 

“Six then, to keep you and Potter from being kidnapped. We’d have some spot of bother if either you or Potter were kidnapped.”

 

“Can I see her?”

 

“We’ll talk more in the morning, Weasley. You’ll also be lead on interviewing the suspect in the kidnapping attempt.”

 

“But I’m on medical duty, sir.”

 

“And you’re the one who can get the information out of the suspect.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Ron turned for the other ward.

 

“This way, Auror Weasley.”

 

Ron made the walk back through the double doors of the Auror ward, watching the Healer walk in front of him. “We cleared up the conjunctivitis spell immediately and cleaned up the blood. As you well know, head wounds, even if they aren’t serious bleed quite a bit. She has been tidied up and her wound patched but it’ll take a day or three for her energy levels to return, even with the blood replenishing potion. It would be prudent for her to rest a day or two with minimal exertion but by Monday morning, she should be ready for work.”

 

“We had a date tonight,” Ron said wistfully.

 

“It’ll be a raincheck unless you get takeaway.” The Healer didn’t bother to look at Ron.

 

Ron shrugged. “Fair point there. Anything else?”

 

“If the symptoms return, including being sick to her stomach or feeling another headache coming on, bring her back in.”

 

“I will.” Ron pushed the door open into Hermione’s room and saw Harry by her side. “Ron,” he said quietly while Hermione was sitting in the bed. “Thanks for saving us.”

 

Ron hugged Harry before leaning over the bed to hug his wife. “Are you hurting?”

“I’m not, now,” Harry interjected.

 

“I know you don’t, you specky git. I was talking to my wife, the one protecting you while I was protecting all of us.”

 

“Thanks for that. Do you know what happened?”

 

“Yeah, I do.” Ron’s face grew dark. Ron conveyed all the important information to Harry and Hermione. Harry didn’t ask a question while Hermione was sitting in the bed looking pensive.

 

“So you’re saying that they laid an elaborate trap to kidnap you and Harry? And you’re saying that I prevented it?”

 

“We’ll know more tomorrow but you being there stopped it. They anticipated the two of us, but not you there. You foiled their kidnapping attempt.”

 

“Sure doesn’t feel like I did much.”

 

Ron leaned over and kissed her on the head. “It never does, ‘til you realize it is.”

 

“So how can we bypass such?”

 

“I’m pitching George’s idea to Director Robards again. I think all seniors and the Directors need it so we don’t have a repeat of today. Figure 12 mirrors in total, with 4 for them and 8 for the seniors, including us. That’ll make George’s year financially but it’ll be worth it, I reckon.”

 

“Will they stay secure?”

 

“We can figure it out once they approve. I have an idea but I dunno if George can make it work.”

 

“I’ll help since I’ll be home resting the rest of the week. Maybe I can find some useful spells for him.”

 

“You would,” Ron cheeked.

 

“Solicitor Granger?” The Healer came into the room. “I’m here to discharge you and Auror Potter. He’s fit to return to duty tomorrow while you are cleared for Monday.”

 

“Sutcliffe is going to have a conniption fit for losing me the rest of the week. I was supposed to take the deposition on the Broom smuggling case.”

 

“Looks like someone else will do it, now that you’re on rest ‘til Monday.” Ron frowned, slightly. “And to think, I have to take a rain check for our date tonight.”

 

“We can still go out.”

 

“Sorry, love, but you’re not to over-exert yourself today. But maybe we can get Harry and Ginny to bring over takeaway and we have dinner that way.”

 

“I’ll see if Ginny’s up for it. She said practice has been kicking her ass lately in preparation for the World Cup. She might want nothing more than to sit at home and sleep through dinner.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” The Healer handed Ron the paperwork. “If any of her symptoms return, please bring her here straight away. No dawdling, you hear?”

 

“Yes, sir, to both of them.”

 

“Off you go then.”

* * *

A/N: Originally posted fanfiction dot net.


	8. Questions and Confessions

* * *

Ron shifted in the bed and felt Hermione shift with him. Sleep hadn’t arrived yet and the way he felt, it wouldn’t tonight.

They needed to talk and it was the first night Hermione’s head didn’t hurt from the concussion.

“You awake?” He shoved down the memory of many sleepless nights after the war ended. Sex helped then and helped now, but it also wound Hermione up for hours so it didn’t help her as much, not when they were on the same schedule.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep.” She snuggled into his side and he welcomed her company. “But I rather have a sleepless night than on those potions that make me feel dodgy.”

“Me neither.”

Ron pulled his wife closer, feeling her hair on his chin and her body mold into his side. “Is it about Thursday?”

She nodded. “I keep thinking that it could have been so much worse if I’d not been there. I tried to not think about it and my mind can’t turn off the repetition.”

“And it’s driving you spare, isn’t it?” She knew he had the same problem after a bad mission.

“I’ve replayed it countless times in my head since I came to bed.”

She ran her hands across his midsection. He stifled the comforting groan in the back of his throat. He needed to listen, not maul his wife.

“And the problem is you can’t find that you did anything wrong, can you?”

“We did everything according to the procedure manual and two of us were hurt. How could that have happened?” She shuddered a moment before settling down.

He hoped that she was coping well enough to avoid an anxiety event. “I know but you’re not going to like my answer.”

“I’d rather know. I think I can handle your answer.”

“Alright. I think someone in that room tipped off the attackers that we weren’t apparating into the immediate vicinity. Someone told the others that we were going to be elsewhere.”

Hermione was quiet for a minute. “Disillusioned, perhaps?”

Ron waited until he felt her breathe again. “It’s the only thing I can think of. Everyone else was gone before we left. I didn’t mention the slight change in the plan until the room was cleared.”

“So someone overheard us.” Her voice hardened instantly.

“Or put a trace on one of us,” Ron countered

He felt her snort. “I’d know if they’d put a trace on you.”

Ron went quiet. “Could there have been a bug?”

“You mean like Rita is?” Her voice got shrill at Rita’s name.

“It’s happened before,” Ron cut in before she could start ranting.

“And it’s far-fetched, dear. I trust McGonagall to tell me if there’s anyone even considering the animagus curriculum.”

“But also plausible, considering the circumstances.” Ron looked over her tangled hair at her face covered in shadows. “Not everyone goes to Hogwarts, dear.”

“I think my idea has a better potential.” Her voice meant authority but he discounted her supposition.

“But that also has problems, too.”

Hermione put her head down on his chest. Ron lay with his wife, thinking through his plans.

“I’ll test it in the next class if the suspect doesn’t say anything in the interrogation today.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Hermione asked Ron didn’t answer so she turned and saw him smiling maliciously.

“Oh, I have my ways, dear.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Nope. But you will be able to help me if you are willing.”

“How?”

Ron lay there a few moments before giggling. “Oh, I have an idea now. You know our safe word, right?”

“WHAT!” Hermione sat up in the bed and turned towards her completely mental husband.

“I want you to use that word, in a question to me, during class.”

“Ron!” Hermione sat there next to him, mortified. “I can’t tell everyone that!”

“Yes you can,” he interjected. “I can’t explain my idea but you’ll know it once it happens.”

“I’m not going to admit to that in front of everyone else!”

“They won’t know, will they, unless you turn into an aubergine?”

“I just can’t admit that in front of everyone!” He saw her looking at her hands and her knees. “Harry’ll be there along with – Ron, I can’t. Can’t you think of something else?”

“I need you to use your brilliant mind and outstanding mouth to find a way to use that word in the discussion later today, so we can find our invisible spy.” He sat up and pulled her into his arms. “And the only one who will know for sure is Harry but since he won’t say anything, you’re safe.” He kissed her delicately and broke the kiss before both of them were breathless and worn out. “I’ll keep you safe, love. You know that. And you’ll have both wands on you. You’ll do fine. No one can hurt you.”

“You really think it will work? What if it’s not someone hidden in the room, watching and spying on us?”

“Then we’ll figure it’s your idea and we’ll go from there.” Ron shifted back down onto the pillows and brought Hermione with him.

“We’ll need to change our safe word.”

“I reckon so.” Ron felt his eyelids getting heavy. “What about _butterbeer_?”

“No, that won’t work since you talk about it often.” Hermione got quiet for a moment. “What about _Guinness_?”

“You mean that grotty beer your dad gave me one time that tasted like uncooked bread?”

“Yeah, that one.” Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you. I trust you.”

Ron smiled in the darkness once his wife’s breathing evened out. “I trust you, love.”

* * *

“Auror Weasley?”

Ron looked up from his desk at the Ministry – the first time he had been seated there in months – and saw an older wizard standing in front of him. “I’m Solicitor Pryne, for Auror Cavendish. I was told you’re the lead Auror for his interrogation.”

Ron shook the elderly man’s hand. “That is correct, sir. I presume you’re from the Solicitor’s Guild for him?”

“That’s right. I have yet to speak with my client and I’d like the chance to do so before you begin interrogating him.”

Ron stood, towering over the other man. “You’re welcome to accompany me to his cells. I’ll also give you ten minutes before I start. That is what is given to all solicitors.”

“It is, but I find it rather disturbing that you are the lead interrogator when, supposedly, you were the focus of the kidnapping attempt. I will file a complaint with the Wizengamot that it’s a conflict of interest that you’re on the case considering who else was involved in this misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” Ron bristled at the solicitor’s accusation. “Sir, if there is a problem, you will need to take it up with the Wizengamot and Director Robards, not me. I was instructed to take lead on the interrogation, and that’s what I am doing.” Ron stood taller, feeling the need to be imposing. “Now if you will follow me, we will go see your client and do as our clients and directors need.”

The men left the department and stopped at the first security checkpoint. A fresh-faced wizard who barely needed to shave more than a fortnight stopped them.

“Names, and wands, if you please.”

Ron handed his wand over for inspection. “Auror Ron Weasley, to see Auror Cavendish.”

The security wizard checked the wand and used it to sign the parchment with Ron’s name into it. The security wizard handed the wand back. “Very good, sir. And you, sir?”

The older wizard moved to hand over his wand and flicked it, stunning the young man in front of him. He turned and Ron hit him hard in the jaw, dropping him to the ground and knocking him out cold.

“Thebloodyhell!”

Harry shrugged off his Invisibility cloak while two people apparated behind the security desk. Ron saw the stern features of Senior Jones and Director Robards. “Damn it! Why didn’t you tell me of this?”

“We needed someone we could trust as the bait.” Director Robards spelled the young bailiff awake and heard him moaning. “We had a tip that a fake Solicitor coming was going to help Auror Cavendish escape.”

Ron watched the conjured ropes secure his wrists. “But he said he was assigned it from the Solicitor’s Guild.”

“Rubbish,” Auror Jones spoke up first. “I checked him out since our informant mentioned him. He’s not part of the guild. He’s not approved by the Wizengamot as a Court approved Solicitor or barrister.”

“Polyjuice, perhaps?” Ron asked.

“Not with the limitations and restrictions on potion supplies. Maybe he’s a hired hand in this, too.” Director Robarts growled out. “Looks like our investigations are getting wider.”

Harry sent the young man off to the infirmary to get checked out. Another fresh-faced young wizard took his co-worker’s place.

“So who is pulling the strings?” Harry asked quietly, away from the other bailiffs.

“That’s what we will find out very shortly, gentlemen.” He turned to the remaining three bailiffs. “Report on Auror Cavendish.”

The young wizard sitting lifted his head first. “Auror Cavendish was checked fifteen minutes ago, sir, and was ‘bloody bored sitting in this cell.’”

Ron hoisted up the stunned faux solicitor and, with Harry’s help, dragged him to a cell next to Auror Cavendish. “So how are we going to handle this?”

“Jones and Potter will handle the mystery man, while we will handle Cavendish. We need to get to the bottom of this today and as quietly as possible. I dunno about you, Weasley, but after all the mess during the Thicknesse regime, I loathe someone who would betray other Aurors.”

“Yes, sir,” the remaining Aurors agreed with the Director’s instructions.

Ron followed the Director into the cell, nodding at the four holding station further down the hallway towards the security desk. He stepped into the cell and froze. The prisoner was lying on the ground, dead a week but was breathing thirty minutes prior. “Shit.”

“That’s what I said, Weasley.” Director Robards stuck his head outside and waved in the other four bailiffs. “Someone better explain this now!”

“He was alive fifteen minutes ago. You can check our memories, sir!” They barked back. “We can’t explain it.”

Robards rubbed his stubble before looking back at the dead Auror. “It seems like this whole bloody affair is getting stranger by the minute, Weasley, and I’m buggered to know what’s going on.”

They left the now-dead suspect to the bailiffs and went to the next holding cell. They stepped inside to a now-weeping solicitor. “Report, Jones.”

“We’ve got a confession, as broken and piss poor as it is.”

“And?”

“The _gentleman_ admits that he was supposed to come to see Cavendish. He can’t remember anything after being hired but he remembers what he was told to tell us – that Cavendish was supposed to kidnap Weasley and Potter, with the hired help. He failed and was punished. This sod was hired to kill Cavendish – not realizing that was his task.”

“So who is he?”

“He’s some poor bastard hired with no clue what he was doing. He was told to find Weasley, recite a particular script at a certain time today, and await rescue.” Auror Jones looked at the weeping man. “He was _Imperiused_ and had a particular charm laid on him. When he was close enough in proximity to Cavendish, it released the charm set on Cavendish and killed him.”

“They offered me a thousand galleons!” the man wept. “They were going to evict me if I didn’t pay up! I can’t be kicked out! Where will my grandkids live?”

Harry and Ron, along with Hemera stepped out of the cell. The three of them turned away from the bailiffs down the hallway. “They forced Cavendish to break an unbreakable vow? How the bloody hell did this sod’s presence break it? All of this can’t be a coincidence.”

“It’s not, Weasley. It’s old Magic and nefarious. We’re dealing with a Pureblood, for sure.”

“Sir, I have an idea but no one will like it,” Harry watched the three at the end of the hallway.

“Potter, got something?” Robards asked from inside the cell.

“Yes, sir. I think we should step outside first, though.”

The Aurors made their way outside to the hallway. Harry pointed his wand towards the walls a few feet away, sealing off their place of discussion. “Go ahead.”

“Well, sir, what if they were both imperiused? Cavendish is caught and this one, who didn’t know of Cavendish, was told to get arrested. Send in the second sod and he acts the unwilling assassin. The case is tidied up and we are left flat-footed.”

“You know, Potter, that’s bloody clever.”

“Something bothers me about it, sir.”

“What’s that, Weasley?”

“Why? It’s been years since we’ve had any serious kidnapping attempts, at least focused on Aurors or their families. Why now? What happened to start this barmy mess? Dolohov is dead and Avery’s case isn’t due to come up for months. Why corrupt an Auror and make him fail a kidnapping attempt and send in a second sod to kill him? What gives, sir? As my wife would say, it makes no bloody sense.”

“Thoughts, anyone?” Robards cut across the discussion.

“It seems like a half-hearted attempt, especially when it came to an Auror,” Jones answered first.

“Why kidnap these idiots? What are they investigating that makes them a threat?” Robards said. “Speak up, both of you. Anything you’ve stumbled upon that is making someone scared?”

“I’ve got nothing of importance, sir,” Harry piped up first. “I’ve been investigating bad cauldrons that were imported from Germany and finishing up the potions smuggling operation coming in from Poland.”

“Jones?”

“Williamson was working on a werewolf case up in the highlands but that was resolved a fortnight ago. He’s on medical leave and will be for a while longer, I reckon. I’ve been investigating fraudulent Quidditch tickets and some betting on matches. My cases are dodgy but nothing murderous.”

“Cavendish?”

“He was working with me on the match betting. It wasn’t anything serious, at least in my investigations.”

“What about you, Weasley?” Robards turned on the other two.

Ron looked over Harry’s head and saw that the others were still not paying attention to him. “I think that we’ve got a bug in the Ministry. I don’t think it was Cavendish. See, the three of us didn’t land where we said we would – instead we were 500 meters away. But somehow, we were set upon instantly. How would they have known if there wasn’t someone in the room, either disillusioned or under a cloak?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Or an unregistered animagus?”

“Exactly. Someone’s tipping off whoever set us up and I’ll be arsed if I don’t find out what’s going on.”

“Bollocks!”

“Rubbish!”

Robards and Jones were rowing instantly.

Harry leaned over while they were discussion implications loudly. “Your idea?”

“Yeah. Hermione said the watcher is wearing a cloak and maybe under Polyjuice. I think it’s a bug that needs to be squished.”

“How are you going to catch them?”

“I have something planned for class later today. But I need your help, too.”

“How?”

Ron leaned over and whispered in Harry’s ear, all while watching Director Robards and Senior Jones.

“I’m in.”

“I knew you would.”

“Weasley? You have class in an hour. Can you pull a plan out of your arse?”

“I have an idea but I need some assistance to pull it off.”

“Explain.”

* * *

Ron stood in the hallway, speaking softly to himself. No one else was around to see his nerves before this particular Mission. Harry was in on his part of the mission, along with the others. Hermione was still in on it, too.

Ron took one last exhale before he pushed open the door to the seminar room. Once again, the room was filled to capacity, including Hermione sitting on the top row. He smiled once at her and saw her nod her head slightly.

“Before we begin, I’ll take questions from the group for ten minutes before I start nattering.”

A myriad of hands went up.

“Fitch, go ahead.”

Cadet Fitch stood up first. “That was a dragon we went to help with, wasn’t it?” The Muggleborn cadet sat down immediately.

A few others in the audience laughed.

“Yes, cadet. Sometimes we are called in to help with rogue dragons. Normally the conservationists are quick to get them under control before they escape the confines of the preserve. It mucks things up with the Ministry when it happens and the Obliviators have to hustle to cover it up before it makes the media. Merlin knows we don’t need another incident.”

More hands went up.

“Shafiq, go ahead.”

A young woman, wearing a demure gray hijab stood up. “Sir,” she said quietly without looking directly at Ron, “I heard conversations before class that there was a kidnapping attempt on you. No one knows how you were able to apprehend the kidnappers or why one of our own is dead.” She sat back down and kept her eyes low.

Ron looked up at the top row and saw Hermione nod once. “It’s an ongoing investigation and I’m as boggled as you. However, we will have an answer sooner than later regarding it. But since you’re a cadet, you have very little to worry about, as long as you follow instructions and follow procedures.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Auror Weasley,” Hermione’s voice blanketed the entire room, “what assurances can we receive from the Directorship that they are doing everything they can to protect their Aurors and the cadets in their training charge from any further attempts? Furthermore, what information can you give the cadets and trainees present that will reinforce proper procedure and protocols on protecting them from undue risk? Finally,” she blushed slightly, “if I get a report that an Auror was arrested for breaking regulations or doing anything taboo, I will prosecute you to the fullest extent.”

Ron kept his face passive while scanning the audience. A few seats looked empty but he knew that someone was in the room.

“The Directors are looking into better forms of communication, so those who receive orders know they are legitimate, secure, and immediate. Everyone here knows how owls can be intercepted and Floo can be over-heard. So if you have additional questions or suggestions, talk with your senior or instructors later.” He saw a sparkle of light towards his left, about a third of the way back.

“But sometimes, you have to make choices out in the field, ones that are grotty and terrible. But they have to be made otherwise inaction will get people hurt, killed, or worse. Sometimes, you have to see what you’re facing, knowing you might not survive it, and still have the bollocks to follow through on the mission.”

“But sir,” Shafiq spoke up from her seat, “we’re not talking about Auror Potter’s situation during the Battle of Hogwarts, are we?”

“Oh, this isn’t about Harry in the least.” Ron scanned the room and saw another flash of light before disappearing again. He turned back to the cadet and regarded her immediately. “This is about every other case that you get sent out on, where you can’t necessarily wait for London to give you an answer. This is about the cases where there’s a hostage being threatened, or a suspect trying to escape, or even attempting a rescue in worst case scenario and if it means your life, so be it.”

Ron saw Hermione shift over to the next seat and move her wand in the particular incantation.

“Sometimes, you want to act on instincts and hear your intuition screaming _do it_ but also know it’s the wrong choice. And sometimes, you have to break the rules and regulations, throw protocols aside to accomplish the task. See,” Ron glanced again and saw Harry’s eyes for a moment further up the left side of the room before disappearing again. “There are cases where the criminal you’re dealing with knows the law as well as you do, and since they are a criminal, they won’t follow the law. But that is where your training and ethics have to hold. Breaking the law to catch a criminal is a last case/worst case scenario. You,” he pointed at Shafiq specifically, “are not wise enough yet to make those kinds of command decisions, not with serious or fatal consequences. Hell, the Director probably isn’t either.”

Ron saw a flash of green again, still on the third row a third of the way up before disappearing again and some sparkle on the left side, in front of Hermione.

“In those instances, moments count when you might have to wait hours for an answer to come in from London. Moments when lives hang in the balance and a wrong decision will cost lives. Can you make that decision without guilt, Shafiq?”

“I can, Auror Weasley. I always make the right decisions.”

“Is that so, Shafiq?” Ron walked up the outside aisle to stand next to the cadet. “I read your file. Top of your class at Hogwarts, Slytherin for six generations, and has the brains to have been in Ravenclaw, like my wife. So, I have a hypothetical situation, Shafiq, for full marks today, if you’re ambitious.”

“What’s the catch?”

“The risk is losing all marks for the week in all your training.”

She finally looked at Ron with a cold, calculating look. Her green eyes were pretty but the ambition behind them burned hot. “I’ll risk it.”

Ron grinned without a hint of pride. “Here’s your scenario: there’s a classroom with fifty cadets, Aurors, and one swotty solicitor. In that room is a traitor. You know they are in there because of previous problems. You’ve taken steps to inform the directorship and seal the room. But how do you determine there’s an informant in the room, without using Veritiserum?”

Shafiq looked around the room at the other cadets and other Aurors present. “How much time do I have, sir?”

“You have sixty seconds, cadet. That’s the most time you have to think of a plan and execute it.”

“Sir!” She exclaimed. “I need – “

“You need something which you don’t have control of. Fifty-five seconds cadet.”

Perspiration broke out on her upper lip. “There are fifty people in here. How can I choose?”

“Now you see the problem. Forty-five seconds.”

“Well, I’m presuming that you and the solicitor are out. So that leaves 47 since I’m not the traitor.”

“Good. Keep going.”

“Seven are from my house so I’m ruling them out.”

“Not necessarily. I had an unregistered animagus as a pet for 12 years and he was from my house. So I rule no one out who is from your same house. Thirty-five seconds.”

She glanced around the room again. “I had classes with five of them. I’m ruling them out.”

“Even the Gryffindors?”

“They are honorable. They wouldn’t do it.”

“Not all Gryffindors are honorable. Thirty seconds.”

She turned and saw a cadet giving her a side-eye glance.

“It could be Cadet Stewart. He was my main competitor at Hogwarts for top marks every year.”

“Fifteen seconds. Cadet Stewart isn’t the traitor. A competitor for top marks doesn’t mean traitor. Now think!” Ron barked.

“Junior Carrington, sir. She was giving me dirty looks during our last training session.”

“You’re pulling bad ideas out of your robes. Five seconds.”

“Drop it,” a voice broke out on the top row. “I mean now, Auror Weasley.”

All heads turned towards the top of the room. Hermione was sitting stock still with a wand at her throat. “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you Weasley? You couldn’t let go, could you?”

“You can take down the disillusionment, Mallory. You’re trapped in the room.”

“And a stunner to Solicitor Granger’s throat at this distance will probably blast her head off. Now drop your wand.”

“No.”

“Did I stutter, Weasley? Drop your fucking wand.”

“No, Mallory. You drop it.”

“And you’re about to lose your queen for good.” He grabbed Hermione’s arm and tried to apparate and fell hard into his seat. “Shit.”

“Surprised, Mallory? You should have anticipated my move. Now drop your wand.” A massive rumble rattled the room. Forty-eight wands turned on Mallory.

“It looks like you’re checkmated, Shawn.”

“Wrong. The Solicitor and I are walking out of here.”

“Shawn?” a soft, calm voice asked.

He turned towards the voice on his right and Hermione punched him squarely in the nose. She pulled her wand and stunned Mallory before Ron could lift his wand. Six Aurors rushed forward to secure the suspect and pull Hermione off of him.

“Good punch, Granger.” Auror Jones appeared from under disillusionment right next to her.

“Fuck,” she hissed before catching her breath. “Sorry. You startled me.” She dropped her wand and stowed it in her own holster on her arm. “I need more practice,” Hermione replied back to the senior Auror. “I’ve not hit someone in anger in years.” Her ears turned a faint red. “That hurt.”

The Senior Auror checked her knuckles and used her wand to stitch up the split knuckle. “When you’re ready, I’ll teach you.” The older witch smiled, bright white teeth contrasting beautifully with her dark skin. “Every witch and wizard should know how to take care of themselves when they are without a wand.”

“Thanks. I’ll schedule it later today for next week.”

Ron came up and checked her throat. “Brilliant work, dear.”

“I couldn’t wait on you, love.”

“You didn’t have to. Harry was right next to you the entire time.” Harry leaned over and whispered in Ron’s ear and Ron nodded once. “But Mallory was my training tool this session.” He didn’t speak about the infiltrator in their midst. “I was teaching real-life chess in here.” Ron put his wand to his throat. “Mallory, excellent work. You convinced everyone.” Ron pointed his wand at the junior Auror and released his bindings.

“Good punch there, Solicitor.” Another Auror fixed his nose with magic and he went to his seat further down the seminar room.

“Sir?”

Ron, Harry, and Hermione turned to see the modestly clad cadet standing demurely back from them. “I apologize, sir. I didn’t realize there was more going on than just my hypothetical situation.”

“We’ll discuss it in a few minutes, cadet. You weren’t meant to know but you did well, considering the circumstances.” Ron lifted his hands to his face. “All right you prats. Back in your seats and we’ll talk about what happened.”

Harry slid into the seat on the end of the aisle next to the exit and saw Hermione chewing her lip. “Do I need to put a protective spell around us?” Harry whispered into her ear.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she whispered back. She kept her eyes forward while scanning the room. “The apparition spell held and nothing tried to break it. No one tried to break in. And the young man who accosted me,” she spoke brokenly

“He was on orders, from Ron,” Harry interrupted.

“He told me when he was invisible and told me to hit him, to change Ron’s plans. But while he was doing that, I was keeping my eyes on the entire room. Whoever is the spy, they are quite cheeky. I saw no one who looked dodgy.”

“That’s a problem.”

“I know. I also had a surreptitious revealing spell in the room. There was no one under disillusionment spells and there were no hidden elves either. So it’s not an elf and not a bug.” She kept her eyes forward, looking at Ron. “The infiltrator is very cunning.”

“I figured that too.”

“And since we won’t use Veritiserum to interrogate a suspect, your job is harder.”

“I rather do my job the right way,” Harry looked around the room and saw Auror Jones talking quietly in her own mirror. “If that means it takes longer while I’m the bait, so be it.”

“But if they come after him, or me,” she asked quietly.

“Then they are making a huge mistake since the two of you are inseparable. I feel bad for Mallory and his nose.”

“I hit him as hard as I could like he asked. But I need to do that more.” She blushed slightly. “I mean, hitting men in anger because I might not always have my wand.”

“Oh, you mean like how Aurors train without their wand in hand-to-hand combat?”

“Yes, exactly. I can’t be complacent and dependent on a wand.”

“Ron would be happy to train with you if you asked.”

“And you know it would quickly devolve from training into something salacious,” she smiled, “and that’s not what I need. So I’ve requested training with Auror Jones.” Her smile dissolved from her face. “We don’t get along at all but she’ll be hard yet fair.”

“Hermione! She’s eight inches taller and sixty pounds heavier than you. She’ll hurt you.”

“And there will be a healer on hand so it’s not too serious.” She scanned the room and stared at one junior Auror in particular. “Auror Jones wanted to put me in my place since my last year at Hogwarts. I’ll give her the chance and maybe I can help her with this case – or expose her.”

“You still think she’s an infiltrator?”

“I’m wrong, I’m sure of it, but there’s something off about her.”

“Every senior is cleared by Robards and Kingsley personally, including using Veritiserum. Every Senior is given an Unbreakable Vow, too, to not betray the Aurors.”

“Harry, that’s patently illegal.”

“And this is from Kingsley himself. He has to know that the Auror Corps leadership is above reproach.”

“I’ll speak with him privately about it.”

“That’s fine but I support his decision. That was in the early days after the war ended, where he trusted all of four people who weren’t name Potter and Weasley.”

She sat quietly a moment, listening to Ron explain how to adjust tactical plans on the fly.

“And one of them is Auror Jones, right?”

“You’re smarter than you realize, Hermione.” Harry smiled. “Two of the four is Jones and Robards. One was Ron’s partner, the one who mucked up on Avery’s second arrest. The last was Smythe. You know what happened to him.”

“Yeah, I remember, clearly.”

“So if the Minister trusts her completely, then I do too.”

“That’s why she was at Hogwarts with us. She wasn’t injured, not like her cover story was.”

“No, she wasn’t. There were constant threats to student’s lives and he had to post an Auror on site to keep an eye on things. Sure McGonagall could hold her own, along with the other professors. And then there was you, and Dean, and Ginny,” Harry’s breath caught, “but an Auror who would give her life to protect the students was what he needed. She did it willingly.”

“And she was there recruiting for the Aurors, too.”

“You were who they wanted in the Aurors.”

Hermione smiled slightly. “My anxiety and trauma kept me out of the Aurors, not like I was interested.”

“Frankly, yes. Kingsley wanted you in the Aurors but – “

“I wasn’t ready mentally or emotionally and by the end of the year, I was on my own crusade.”

Harry smiled. “I told you that you’re brilliant.”

Hermione scanned the room, halfway listening to Ron’s lecture. “I couldn’t handle being away from Ron any more than I am now. It’s bad when he’s off on missions for weeks and months. If I was off on missions too it would have torn us apart.” Hermione took a deep breath. “But being home most of the time for Ron kept us together. He has a reason to come home, and he has a reason to come home alive and in one piece.”

“And now for the next lesson, we’ll talk about ethics on missions, and when you can legally break the law,” Ron’s voice broke over Hermione’s broken voice.

Hermione sucked in her breath. “Next lesson will be about his Mum’s case.”

“And we still have to find our infiltrator.”

Her expression turned hard. “We will, one way or another.” Her expression softened at Ron’s smile. “No one’s going to hurt Ron.”

* * *

A/N: Originally posted on fanfiction dot net.


	9. Debriefing

* * *

Ron went into his office with Harry right on his heels. They closed the door behind them before silencing it and sealing it. “Well, that was a waste of our bloody time. I was sure we’d catch someone today.” Ron threw himself in the rickety seat and clutched his head in his hands.

“What else is new?” Harry leaned against the door and watched Ron grapple with their current situation. “Hermione said that there wasn’t a bug in the room or a hidden elf. No one was under disillusionment and no one tried to break her anti-apparition warding or her locking spells.”

“Bollocks, Harry. Someone had to have tried it.”

“Are you really saying – “

“No,” Ron leaned back in the chair and heaved a huge breath out. “I trust you and Hermione. But I was so bloody sure.”

Harry felt the tension abate from the room. “I checked every empty seat. They were truly empty and no one was hiding under them like an Animagus.”

“You know what this means, right?”

“No. I’m pants at legilimens.”

“It means that we were right and we were wrong.”

“That makes no sense. Are you mental, Ron?”

“My wife says I am, if can you believe that.”

Harry rolled his wife in imitation of his sister-in-law.

“I’m saying is that we’re over-complicating things. The spy is in our classroom and he’s a very calm one. What I think happened is that he got lost in the shuffle to portkey out and was able to disillusion himself in the bustle and either hopped a ride with us – or knew the area where we were going and apparated ahead to tip us off.”

Harry found a chair to sit down in. “We’d have heard a pop of apparition if they did that. Besides, can they even apparate out of that room to our destination? And if so, that’s changing immediately.” Harry reached for the parchment on Ron’s desk and scribbled a few notes with a borrowed quill.

“Bugger if I know. Bet Hermione would. And your idea is a smart one. I don’t want a repeat of what happened again.” Ron sat back and stared at the ceiling. “You know what I think? I think our spy could apparate out. He heard where we were going and beat us there. He collected his friends to meet us at our destination and they attacked as soon as we appeared.”

“Damn thin there, Ron - Bloody damn thin. I don’t like that one bit.”

“Do you have any bright ideas? Look, if they rode the portkey with us, there was no time to greet us with a welcoming party.” Ron picked up his wand and pointed it some rubbish papers and made them spin around the room.

“But we still don’t know why we’re the target.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s the problem.” The paper balls flew faster and occasionally bounced off the walls.

“You’re mental, you know. Sure you’re not working on anything?”

Ron opened the desk drawer and pulled out a silver flask. He conjured up two glasses and poured a measure into both. “Here,”

“What is it?”

“It’s grotty Irish whiskey that I can’t stand. “

“Why’d you hand me this? It’s half ten.”

“And I’ve not slept more than two hours a night since the bloody kidnapping attempt. So I have this out and sit here thinking like Moody would.”

“And that is?”

“Paranoid. Someone in that classroom is targeting us and I’ll be arsed if I let them do it.”

“No one’s targeting us, not after everything that’s happened.” Harry looked at his glass and put it on Ron’s desk. “Do you think it’s Mallory?”

“No, it’s not him. He did it for full marks this week. He’s an elderly hippogriff when it comes to women but he’s also a half-blood who lost two older siblings to Death Eaters. He’s eager to prove his worth in protecting others and he has no love for them at all.” Ron lowered his wand and the parchment balls fell to the floor.

“What about Smythe?”

“He’s a kneazle. He has a burning ambition but wants to do it right. Besides, he’d obliviate himself if he ever disappointed me, and especially Hermione.”

“And Shafiq?”

“She’s cold and ambitious. And she’s a Pureblood who I can’t decide if she’s playing her part too well at being submissive or if she’s looking to use her position for immediate promotion.”

“But would she turn traitor to the cause?”

“No, I don’t think so. Turning traitor means selling out. It’d only happen if it’s a personal benefit and I don’t see that happening with her. She gains nothing from it.”

“You mean like Pettigrew?”

“Yeah, exactly like that rat. So who in the class can benefit from selling us out?”

“If you think it’s about us.”

“What else could it be about?” Ron pointed his wand at the glass and banished the contents. “Better than drinking the stuff, I reckon.”

Harry looked at his glass. “And cauldron smuggling seems like the bottom of the barrel when it comes to stopping an investigation. I’d think it was tax evasion on smuggled liquor, considering.”

“Even Percy isn’t arsed over cauldron bottom thickness, not right now.”

“What about the Quidditch match fixing? You think that’s what the case is?” Harry put the glass down to keep the temptation away.

“Nah, Harry. Blokes have been trying to fix Quidditch matches for centuries. It always fails after a match or two because of how long and intense Quidditch is. Getting a score perfect or asking players to scrub points is rubbish.” Ron put his glass back in the drawer. “Last time I heard of a player trying to scrub points was about 20 years ago. Dad told me the bloke was set upon by the fans and ended up walking around Wigtown with his memory wiped. It served him right, dumb bastard.”

“And the ticket scalping?”

“Rubbish too. There’s no need unless it’s at a Puddlemere match against the Harpies.”

“Do we know which matches Jones is working on?”

“No. We could ask her.” Ron eyed Harry’s glass.

“So who else is working on cases that are this dodgy?”

“Williamson was on the werewolf case but that was wrapped up. I don’t go before the Wizengamot for another two months on the Avery case. Cavendish was helping Jones on the Quidditch stuff. There’s nothing I can figure that would warrant a bloody kidnapping.”

“Bugger. Maybe I should drink the grotty shit.” Harry tossed back his glass and grimaced. “I see why you say it’s disgusting. Stuff would take the twigs off a broom.”

“That’s why I keep it in there, so I’m not tempted to drink during the day.”

Harry sat down on the desktop and looked at the door. “So what do we do?”

“Me? You’re the brilliant one.”

“And you’re the one teaching, not me.”

_Knock, Knock._ “Ron, open up.”

Harry removed the spells from the door and saw Hermione smiling. “I figured you were in here.”

Harry slid aside so Hermione could come in. “Figure anything out?” She sat in the spare chair in the cramped office.

“Not a bloody thing ‘cept the spy is pretty damn slick.”

“I had anti-apparition wards up and sealed the doors. No one tried to get in or get out.”

“So it’s not an elf or a bug then, huh?” Ron stared at the ceiling.

“Not that I can tell, and no one under disillusionment charms ‘cept for Harry and Mallory.” Hermione kicked the desk and Ron fell back some, his feet hitting the ground with a thud.

“You do that for, Hermione?”

“You didn’t tell me about Mallory!”

“I had to know if he was the traitor. He’s not, which is why he got the role of fake spy and earned full marks for the week. You hitting him like I hit Malfoy was pudding in the situation.”

“Was he – “

Ron smirked. “Yeah, he is.”

Hermione grinned back. “So that was my benefit.”

“Yeah, mostly. But that still means we have 47 people in the room who are potentials.”

“47, huh?” Hermione looked at them. “So we can rule out the three of us, and Mallory. That still includes Jones among the group.”

“I know. Harry and Kingsley trust her, but you wouldn’t rule her out so I’m not either.”

“Just because there’s something about her that bothers me doesn’t mean she’s not Kingsley’s trusted advisor, along with the Director.”

“Kingsley trusts her with his life and that’s good enough for me,” Harry added immediately.

“And I trust my wife and if she says that Jones is dodgy, I will believe her. She doesn’t bother me at all but if Hermione’s feeling something, I won’t discount it.”

“I’m not bothered by her being gay, Ron, if that’s what you’re talking about. That hasn’t bothered me since my last year at Hogwarts. But there’s something else that she just rubs me the wrong way.”

“When has she ever rubbed you?” Ron cheeked and watched his wife turn bright red.

“It’s not that at all,” she whispered.

Harry cut across her, giving her an out. “Ron, what about our infiltrator?”

“It’s not us, and not Mallory. I think interviewing all of them is a bloody waste of time, though.”

“Harry tells me the Seniors are all above reproach.” Her glare burned but he wouldn’t look at her.

“They are, even if you disagree on the methods, Hermione. Jones has been on the up and up since I got her as a Senior. I can’t think of anything else regarding her since she’s my senior and I have to trust her.” Harry kept his distance from Hermione for good reason.

“So who else is there?” Ron spoke while ignoring his wife’s glare.

“Williamson is out on medical so I’m not including him either way. And since I rule out Jones, I’m not including her. That’s 46 in total.”

“That’s a bloody huge number to sort through.”

Hermione spoke up. “How many cadets?”

“25.”

“And apprentices?”

“14.”

And juniors?”

“7.”

Harry interjected, “I think we should discount all of the cadets. I sent them off on the first portkeys to Pennerly to help with the fires. They were meant to be away from the Dragon. Besides, all but two are fresh out of Hogwarts.”

Hermione pulled a piece of rubbish parchment and wrote on it. “And the two?”

“Smythe and Stewart are 19 and did a gap year with their friends. It was part of their admittance interview.”

“So that leaves us Apprentices, Junior, and Senior Jones. Does that add up right?” Ron saw his wife nodding without looking at them.

“What about the Aurors who are sitting in with us?”

“After what happened to Cavendish, they’d be stupid to turn on us now.”

“So could any of the apprentices have heard anything? Hadn’t we sent them off on the third and fourth portkeys?” Hermione kept writing on her parchment.

“I doubt it. I didn’t mention a change in plans for us until everyone else appeared to be out of the room.”

“So that leaves juniors and any Aurors who were in the room.”

“Oh this is mucked up,” Ron groaned. “How am I supposed to explain to the Director that one of the juniors is our spy?”

“So you’re discounting Jones straightaway?” Hermione asked before crossing her arms in disbelief. “But you just said – “

“I need to start somewhere, Hermione, and starting with Kingsley’s most trusted Auror first mucks up a dozen investigations going on. If I interview juniors on their cases, it’s not as detrimental.”

“So that’s what you’ll tell the Director?”

“Yeah. I’ve got nothing else to go on, Hermione.”

“Send me a memo later,” Hermione picked up her satchel and went to the door. “I have to get back to work since I was out last week. Cutcliffe won’t tolerate any dallying during lunch this week. I’ll see you tonight.” Hermione slipped out of the office and Harry sealed it again.

“Now what do you really think, Ron?”

“Jones isn’t it. She’s been Kingsley’s best friend since Hogwarts. It’s not her. I’d believe Robards turned before I’d believe her.”

“You think someone’s leaning on her, or someone she’s close to?”

“Who in their right mind would try blackmailing Jones? She’s not quiet about seeing Professor Sinestra at Hogwarts and her cousin – “

“ - would beat most people with her beater’s bat than being corrupted. It’s not them.”

“So we should bring her in on this one, right?”

“Hell yeah. The more we have to trust, the faster we can sort through our gnome problem.”

“Williamson?”

“He’s been out for months. He’ll not be back ‘til September, probably, if then.”

“So he’s off the hook. Are there any other Aurors who were in there that day?”

“No, just Jones. Not even Kingsley was there, or Director Robards.”

“So this boils down to the juniors and apprentices. Any of them have any family connections to Dolohov?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to find a way to reach out to Pansy since she’s the last link we had to the sod.”

“You think she’d talk with us about Dolohov, even if it’s off the record?”

“I can ask,” Ron said quietly, “or we can have her come by, or make an excuse for her to come in.”

“Will she talk? That’s what I’m wondering.”

“Maybe – or maybe not. But the juniors we have…” Ron looked pensive.

“Are any of them dodgy? That’s all I’m concerned about.”

Ron pulled a stack of parchment from his desk drawer. He flipped through the stack quickly. “They all look on the up and up. Five are from Hogwarts, two from Beauxbatons. All were top of their classes and all made their NEWTS or whatever the French insist on exit exams. Three from Hogwarts worked through MLS to get to be Aurors when Kingsley put a deadline of anyone getting into the program without NEWTS. Everyone who is an apprentice now had to have all the required NEWTS.”

“So the Juniors might be the ones who slipped in the net.”

“It’s possible. Seven juniors and Four Seniors.”

“Five,” Ron mentioned quietly. “Kingsley has yet to sign off on the parchment but Robards said it’s all a formality at this point.” Ron looked through his pale lashes at his best mate. “I got promoted, to Senior.”

Harry grinned like a drunken loon. “Brilliant. Then it makes six, then.”

“Six?”

“Yeah. I told Robards I wouldn’t accept the promotion to Senior until you did.”

“Harry!”

“Either you got promoted or I’d stay where I was.”

Ron felt the old issues trying to spike and shoved it down hard. “You – “

“ – are the one person ultimately responsible for keeping me alive in this job and are more important to me than some bloody promotion in the department. So yeah, congrats. You’ve earned it.”

Ron looked away from his best mate to wipe the moisture from his eyes and fight the urge to hug his best mate like he’d not seen him in months.

He finally turned back towards Harry and saw him fiddling with his wand. “So now that leaves six Seniors and Seven Juniors.”

“Who is left then?”

Ron’s face darkened. “Our turncoat.”

* * *

“Mr. Weasley?”

Ron looked up from his desk and the small mountain of parchment scattered everywhere and saw Ms. Blunt standing in the doorway.

“Begging your pardon sir, but there is a lady here who wishes to speak with you.”

“Who is it, Ms. Blunt?”

Pansy pulled Ms. Blunt aside and she slid into the office. “I won’t be here long enough for tea, dear.” Pansy closed the door in Ms. Blunt’s face and sat down in front of Ron. “Competent witch there, Weasley.”

“Ah, it’s nice to see you too, Pansy. Anyone else you want to sell out today or is smearing them on the front pages of the Prophet sufficient?”

“And you’re still a pauper, Weasley. Alas, you asked me in a rather daft way to come in and speak with you regarding Dolohov – “

Ron put down his quill. “I have and I appreciate your time, Pansy.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and Ron smirked at her reaction.

“I promise I’ll be brief. It’s regarding Dolohov.”

Her face betrayed nothing at the name dropped. “You know as much as I do, Weasley.”

“Cut the shit, Pansy. I know more than you will admit because you slept with my brother often enough after the war ended.”

She frowned. “And he can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?”

Ron sat back in his chair. “It wasn’t for a lack of trying. I didn’t care who he was fucking. But mum was worried so she interrogated him harder than I ever would. She dragged your name out of him, along with Dolohov.”

She settled into the chair and relaxed, slightly. “What do you need to know?”

“I can’t go into all the details, but there’s a problem. I am asking if Dolohov had any family in Britain. You’re the only remaining contact that knew him, at least that’s not rotting in Azkaban. And I rather look at your face than anyone else.”

Pansy opened her purse and pulled out a silver case. She removed a cigarette from it and lit it with her wand. She took a long drag from it before answering.

“If he did, I never saw it. He didn’t keep company with any ladies when I was home and he never spoke of any women in his life – or men, for that matter. He was all business and that business was notorious acts. But when he tutored me, he was polite and kind, even if he was ruthless outside of the manor. His dueling lessons were educational and if I can say, Professor Snape would have had a hard time against Antonin.”

“Bugger.”

“Avery was another story, though.”

“Really?” Ron’s ears perked up. “Please, continue.”

She took another drag from her cigarette.

“Avery had 2 brothers and they both died early. They left widows and children behind. The kids should be ‘round 20, I reckon. There were two boys, and one girl, that I recall. But it’s been about ten years since I saw them last. Avery never married but he had a penchant for appreciation of men’s company. I don’t recall him sowing any seeds before retiring for the night with Rookwood. But then if he did, he was discrete about it.”

“Do you remember any names, perhaps?”

“No, I don’t. I only met them twice at a party my father was hosting.”

“So the widows, what happened to them?”

“Oh, I’m sure they married well. One was a Selwyn, and I’m not sure of the other. But I recall she was not necessarily completely English heritage.”

“Would she have been from the Shafiq line of Purebloods?”

“Perhaps, Weasley. I’d have to ask around for those details. I know I don’t have that history at home. Maybe you could consult with Nott Junior or Zabini. If anyone would know, they would.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea, Pansy. Would you reach out to them? I know their position in Ministry circles and how bad that would look if they were brought in on such mundane affairs. It’s not like the previous decade where influence was peddled openly and galleons exchanging hands at dinner parties.”

Pansy smiled, barely. “That wife of yours seems to be influencing you. I’m almost impressed, Weasley. It’s shrewd and subtle. A first-year Slytherin mastered such subtlety before they started Hogwarts compared to what you’ve just now learned.”

Ron smirked at her backhanded cheek. “What I’ve learned is that not everything needs a hammer. I figure that I owe you one and keeping everything on the quiet is the smart way to handle this. Our problem needs delicate hands, not brutish ones.”

Pansy took one last drag from her cigarette before banishing it with her wand. “And you think my hands are delicate enough to handle this situation?”

“Charlie seemed to think so and I trust him completely. He mentioned you have a feminine touch.”

“Touché, Weasley. I’ll ask around. Would you like for me to get directly in contact with you?”

“No, Ms. Blunt will be more than adequate for owls. She’s confidential and extremely helpful. As long as you stipulate in the mail what the information is, it won’t go past her. And it keeps your hands clean, too.”

“Are you sure, Weasley? These things are extraordinarily sensitive, as you well know.”

“Ms. Blunt is my wife’s personal assistant but works in the Auror department. She’s the best one there is.”

Pansy lifted her purse from her lap. “If she’s that good, why don’t I know of her? Was she years ahead of me, perhaps in Green and Silver?”

Ron grinned. “You wouldn’t know her because she’s shrewd and older than you think but also a half-blood, from Hufflepuff house. She’s best friends with my Sister-in-law, Healer Audrey Weasley.”

“Really? And she’s working for your wife? She must be down on her luck,” Pansy cheeked.

“She was for a time during the war. She lost her husband during the coup in 1997. He was a Ravenclaw and he worked in the Ministry and was one of Umbridge’s first victims of the Muggleborn registry commission. He went into Azkaban and disappeared.” Ron’s face stayed passive but his ears turned bright red.

“Daddy told me that keeping in her good graces would be prudent but I didn’t like her. I’m glad she’s in Azkaban. She got what was coming to her.”

“I agree completely.”

Pansy stood up from her chair and Ron rose with her. “Thanks for coming in. I look forward to not speaking with you again.”

“Likewise, Weasley.” She went to the door. “How’s Charlie doing?”

“He’s good. I got a letter from him last week, talking about his bloody dragons.” Ron smiled. “He does care for you, I think, even if he doesn’t love you that way. But he loves his dragons so much more.”

Pansy smiled and Ron finally saw the appeal. “Charlie’s the only one who treated me kindly after everything happened. I thank Charlie for keeping me alive and sane after it all. He’s who I needed once the war ended and after my parent’s murder. I know plenty gossiped that I had used him but it wasn’t like that at all.”

Ron bristled and tamped down his irritation. “Well, you did try to turn over Harry, but I understand why you were in a terrible position.”

“Thanks, Ron. We’ll talk again. And if you don’t mind,” she broke off her comment.

“I know - you were never here.” He watched her leave his office.

Ron turned back to his seat and sat down and felt the air swirl slightly before magic erupted from the corner of the room, locking his door and sealing it.

“You believe that rubbish? She’s full of dragon dung!” Harry whipped off his cloak and tousled his hair. “Of course she used him! And she’s full of crap now trying to cover her ass in this whole affair. She knows who it is.”

“If my brother says that she needed him for a while, I believe him. Her motivations are her own, regardless of whatever it was. But she did help. She came in, willingly. And she’s going to ask around. That’s all we can do, at least with her.”

“What, talking about Avery’s family?”

“Yeah. It gives us a lead on who our turncoat might be.”

“Ron, it’s nothing. Three possible ones, age 20. That’s the bulk of the apprentices and juniors in your classroom.”

“Oh, I know. But it narrows it down some and writes off 2 of our potentials.”

“Two? Who?”

“Connelly and Wellington. They’re in their mid-20’s after having been in MLS for a couple of years.”

“So that leaves five.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So do you have any other bright ideas?”

“No, I don’t. Hermione won’t sign off on Veritiserum and without a motive I’m boggled on what to do next.”

“So let’s look at it again.”

“Harry, we’ve beaten this hippogriff to death. Dolohov is a dead end. Avery is in custody and I’m not due to talk with the Wizengamot for two months since his trial was postponed again. No one’s arsed about smuggled cauldrons and we burned the smuggling operations down when we took down Dolohov and Avery. I dunno what else there is, at least with us.”

“Then I’m as boggled as you are.”

“So it looks like we’re back at the first square.”

_Knock, Knock_

Harry tapped his wand on his head and disappeared but stood in the corner. Ron waited a couple of seconds before magically unsealing his door and opening it.

“Cadet,” Ron opened the door and escorted Cadet Shafiq into the room. “How can I help you this morning?” He kept the door open for the cadet’s comfort.

“Sir,” she kept her eyes lowered slightly and handled the parchment in her fingertips. “Is there an answer to the situation in the classroom earlier?”

“Is that’s what’s bothering you, cadet – that it seems like there should be an answer but there isn’t one, at least how you see it?”

“Yes, sir. You’ve made me think about things,” she broke off, “things that don’t make logical sense.”

“Such as?”

“Why would anyone turn traitor, at least in the Aurors? This is the group that is elite and the best. Why would anyone want to sell them out?”

“Harry, you’d better explain this one. You’ve had firsthand experience at this, unfortunately.”

Shafiq frowned when Harry removed his disillusionment.

“There’s plenty of reasons why someone would rat on you.” He sat down on the edge of the table, away from the cadet. “For instance, someone might try to hand you over because they are in a no-win situation, such as their family being threatened. Others might sell you out for power, or money, or promotion. As long as wizards and witches can benefit from their betrayal, they will do so.”

“But that would be like me turning over my sister? She’s precious to me.”

“And if you were told that it was either your sister’s life or your entire family, what would you choose?”

Harry saw the dawning horror on her face. “Sir!”

“That’s what happened to Harry, at least when he was a child. Voldemort offered to spare his Mum’s life in exchange for Harry’s life when he was a baby. His father was already dead when she was confronted with the choice. She chose to stand there, wandless, to protect her son. There was no choice.”

“So you’re saying – “

“Sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest choice you will ever make, as a person or as an Auror. As Albus Dumbledore once said, ‘we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy,’ or something like that.” Harry looked at Ron and saw Ron pull a serious face. “Sometimes, dying is the easy part. Sometimes, living through tragedy is ten times harder than dying. And sometimes, making amends after cocking things up and working to not repeat the same mistake is the hardest choices to make.”

“But if you make the right choices the first time,”

“No one is perfect all the time, cadet, not even his wife,” Harry smirked. “She’s right most of the time, much to the Instructor’s chagrin, but even she’s not perfect and occasionally makes mistakes. I know you think you make the right decision all the time,”

“But I do, sir,” she countered.

“And there will come a time when there is no right solution to a problem or in my case,” Ron flexed his arms, “or all the choices you have at that moment, whether on a case or in a real-life situation are all shit.”

“Sir?”

“Imagine you’re on a chessboard, and you’re facing off against the other side and you have to play your way across it, for victory. Now imagine being faced with the choice – protect your team from harm, so they can go catch the criminal, or shrug your duty in protecting them and risk losing them all, and letting the fugitive get away. What would you do?”

“There are always alternatives, sir.”

“And I think I demonstrated in class today that, when seconds count and pressure mounts, you don’t have the luxury of taking your time to explore every possible option, no matter how minuscule the potential for success is.

“Your ethics are strong, cadet, but you think you have time when out on a mission when it’s a luxury. I’ll speak with your trainers to work on that with you, so you can make those right choices faster, so you’re not wasting time.” Ron pulled a fresh piece of parchment and wrote out a note.

“Thank you, Sir. I never realized such.”

“I think you’ll do well, once you are up to speed with the protocols and procedures. From the reviews, you do make mostly good choices, but it would benefit you to think about consequences and explore them in training, so if you are faced with a terrible choice, you can make the decision faster, with less harm done.”

Shafiq stood up from her chair and made for the doorway. “Sir, if I can ask, what happened with the situation you presented? What did you do?”

“Your instructor,” Harry smiled, “made the hard choice, cadet, and sacrificed himself to let me chase the fugitive. He was hurt and in the Infirmary for a few days but I eventually caught the criminal and thwarted his plans. Auror Weasley’s choice saved my life – again.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll think on what you said.” The cadet left.

“You think she’s a traitor?”

“No, I don’t. But I’m boggled at who it might be – and why.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Originally published on Fanfiction dot net. - _DG_


	10. Checking all of the parchment

* * *

“Weasley,” a deep voice broke Ron’s attention from his paperwork. He looked up and saw Hemera standing in the doorway to his office. “Got a tic?”

Ron put down his quill and pushed the seat back from the antiquated desk. “Sure. Something private?”

“Yeah, I reckon it is.” She came in and locked his door before silencing the room. “Have you had a chance to do any further investigating on Cavendish or the sod that was used to murder him?”

“I’m not lead on that case. I’ve been, ah, busy on a different one.”

“And that is?”

Ron sat forward in his chair and regarded the senior Auror across from him. Hemera Jones was one formidable witch, much like Minerva McGonagall, in temperament and tenacity. She was also bloody good at her job and kept her proclivities with Professor Sinestra very private.

“Were you in the training room last week when I put Shafiq on the clock in a hypothetical situation?”

“No, I was following up on my case. I didn’t come in until you started the simulation. What’s up?”

Ron took a deep breath before continuing. “Harry and I think that we’ve got a turn-coat in the ranks. We think that someone sold us out and they are the reason that we were almost kidnapped.”

“Bollocks.” Her eyes turned to slits. “And you thought I might have been the one, even after I denied such an accusation. I bet that you and that twit Potter rowed over me being the sell-out.”

“No, Harry and I are in firm agreement.” Ron watched her face change some, taking in the information afforded.

Hemera pulled out a tin from her pocket and put a mint in her mouth before pocketing it once more. “Granger, then. She’s never trusted me, not since we first met.”

“Don’t take it personally. She rarely trusts people, especially when it comes to me and Harry. She is fiercely loyal, otherwise.”

“Commendable that you got her to see it your way,” she smirked. “Too bad I can’t earn her trust,” she lamented

“I can be persuasive if you know how to row with her. And you will, eventually, probably. ” He saw her frowning. “And it’s not because you’ve been seeing Aurora for years if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Jones snorted violently. “So you and Potter think I’m on the up and up.”

“We do and we trust you.”

Her expression turned fierce. “I’d take a wand to myself before turning face on Kingsley. He’s my best mate. And I’ll take a wand to the one who is trying to betray the Aurors. I lived through the last nightmare I’ll be arsed if some poncy twat tries to harm the Aurors this time.”

“That’s why we will need your help on the matter of sorting out who the traitor is. Harry refused to hear anything otherwise. I also know that you’d never sell out, not after everything that’s happened to your family. You’d kill Gwenog before turn traitor.”

“Fucking right you are.”

“And Hermione did mention that in that all-call, the cadets went first and we didn’t change our plans until after they were gone. They couldn’t have known.”

“So you think it’s either an apprentice or Junior?” She sat down on the edge of his desk, her dark blue boots looking dull in his office.

“We think it’s a junior, frankly. Kingsley changed the requirements where anyone getting in after 2001 had to have NEWTS along with clearance from Audrey to be admitted to the program. Those who didn’t pass both sets went to MLS as bailiffs. Harry and I caught hell from everyone for coming in without them.” Ron fumbled with his quill, trying not to get lost in thought. “The younger ones weren’t present to know where we were landing. That’s why I think it’s a Junior. It doesn’t make sense if they are a cadet or even apprentice.”

“So you’re thinking that one of the juniors slipped through while the Quidditch Tent was wide open?”

“It looks that way. Seven juniors and I didn’t notice whether they were still present when we changed our landing plans at the last moment. I know that McKenzie is barely scraping by in his classes but he’s top notch out in the field. Add in he has a wife and kid at home and he’d blow his own head off before quitting.”

“He could be bribed.”

“I doubt it. There’s too much at stake now. There’s also Archer. He’s a straight shooter and he’s never given any lip to anyone, I don’t think.”

“The quiet ones are the ones you should consider, Weasley. You should know that.”

“Carrington went to Beauxbatons and was top of her class. She’s proved herself to earn the promotions and goes way above and beyond. Her ambition burns bright and she’d be barmy to throw it aside.”

“Get to the point, Weasley.”

Ron nattered on. “Mallory proved himself which is why he had the pleasure of letting my wife punch him in the nose. Wellington is middle of the pack in his training scores but he’s top-notch on policy and procedure. Edwards will be an excellent field Auror once he earns his last stripes. Brumby will crawl over broken glass to get his Auror badge, way he is in training. His marks at Beauxbatons were almost as good as Carrington was.”

“You’ve still not made your point.”

“What I’m saying is that every single one of them has something to lose and everything to gain. Throwing away their career when most of them are this close to promotion to full Auror makes no sense yet it’s the only answer I keep coming back to.”

“And you think it’s focused on you, and not someone else?”

“Why else would they attack the three of us?”

“It still doesn’t make sense but for now, I’ll go along with it. Now, how do you plan on investigating the Juniors? All of their files are in the department. They’ll know.”

“I reckon I’ll think of something to bait our traitor out into the open.”

“That’s not good enough, Weasley.”

“I know but it’s all I have right now. That’s why I’m asking for your help.”

* * *

 

“You’re quiet tonight,” Hermione brought Ron a cup of tea to him while he was lost in thought on the couch. “I thought you’d have left work at work today.”

“I’ve been thinking all day,”

“So you’re worn out, right?” She cheeked before sitting down next to her husband on the couch.

“Something Jones said has been bothering me.”

“And that is?”

“When I ran the hypothetical situation with Shafiq, trying to bait our traitor in the room, Jones wasn’t in there. I asked her and she said she came in after I started but she wasn’t in the room. After you punched Mallory, she was there, coming from under disillusionment.” Ron looked over the room, looking slightly lost. “Why was she hiding in the room instead of making herself known?”

“Maybe she’s the one evaluating you for your fitness report? You said that they are given next month, and it also includes promotions. Maybe she didn’t want you to know she was evaluating you in class. She did that a couple of times, at Hogwarts, when we weren’t supposed to know she was there.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“You and Harry trust her, even if I don’t. But then I don’t work with her so I don’t know her. You do and I trust your judgment. So I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt on your behalf.”

“Alright. I’ll take it.”

“Now have you thought further on who the turncoat is? And have you come up with any leads on who hired the accidental assassin for Cavendish?”

“I think it’s all related, one way or another, and for the life of me, I can’t fathom it. None of it makes any damn sense and yet it all fits even if I can’t make sense of it.”

“Have you spoken with Robards yet?”

“No, just Jones. I think she’s related to all of this entire mess but for the life of me, I can’t figure out how she fits into the situation.”

“Maybe she does and maybe she doesn’t. Look how often Harry was accused of something and it was either a bad rumor or just terrible circumstances. Maybe that’s what is going on with her, too.”

“She’s not my Senior so it’s not like I work with her as often as Harry did, once Kingsley took over the Minister’s position. He’s worked with her for a long time and he trusts her.”

“And he trusted Dumbledore and look at that whole mess.”

“I reckon that was mucked up.” Ron slowly turned to his wife and saw a gleam in her eyes. “You have a brilliant idea, don’t you? Something I’ve not considered, right?”

“I do. You said that the Aurors gossip worse than women, right? Why not use it to your benefit and possible advantage? I mean, you said there’s a traitor among the juniors. Why not flush them out and see if you can get an idea of who it is?”

“If they didn’t bite when I had the cadet on the clock, why would they bite on some gossip?”

“What if you make it tantalizing, like promotions or fitreps? I bet that can start some tongues a-wagging.”

“You mean how you get when I start talking dirty to you when we’re - “

“RON!” she blushed brilliantly.

Ron grinned. “No, I get what you’re saying. But you think I can get them nattering on about promotions and fitreps and see who speaks up about other rubbish? I think I can do that. But what if our traitor doesn’t bite? I mean if I talk _that_ way long enough while rubbing you, you bite.”

She blushed harder before hitting him on the arm. “Ron! You aren’t to rub anyone in class!”

“But what if I use words to rub someone the wrong way? I mean, not everyone in there is guaranteed a promotion. Sure, there are openings but the best of the bunch are considered - but if they don’t have the recommendation of two seniors, they won’t get the promotion. The only two Seniors who would give those recommendations were Jones and Cavendish. But since he’s dead now, it’s all up to Jones. She’s tough as nails when it comes to promotions. If she says that someone’s not ready, they aren’t up for it for a year, minimum. Kingsley supports her completely, which is why I’m boggled that I got the promotion so fast from Auror to Senior, at least unofficially.”

“So none of the others will sign off on recommendations?”

“Robards won’t consider it unless he tapped Williamson. But then the Director might not even promote someone to Auror from the Juniors.”

“You could _rub_ that in the faces of the students, reminding them they have to earn their promotions, not get it just by being present and doing the bare minimum.”

“I reckon that even if there is an opening that doesn’t mean the Minister is required to fill it. He could leave it open a year or three, depending on the budget.”

“Has he left positions open?”

“Yeah, they have. Jones mentioned one time that they didn’t promote a soul for five years, because there wasn’t the budget or the need for additional Aurors.”

“So tell them that, that they aren’t entitled to a promotion and that to even be considered, they have to work very hard to distinguish themselves.”

“You know? That just might work. Fitreps are due next month and the juniors will try to prove themselves the next couple of weeks. And if there is a slot open, they might get cutthroat. I bet that we can push them hard enough that they will either reveal themselves or mouth off enough that we can pinpoint our turncoat.”

“How?”

“I think it’s time for a training exercise all of my own.”

“You’ve not been cleared by a Healer yet. There’s no way you can handle a training mission.”

“Oh, they aren’t coming after me. Oh no. I’ve got a better idea.”

“And that is?”

“Remember when you had me read up on that grotty ancient history?”

“I don’t make you read anything, Ron.” Hermione pouted.

“You said it would be prudent to read that particular book since I was going to be going into the Aurors and you were still off at Hogwarts for another month. So I did.”

“And?”

“I think I can put it to use for next class.”

“Will Robards sign off on it?”

“If it unmasks our rat, I don’t think he’ll mind at all.”

“You’re running the risk of turning the entire department against you if it fails if you’re planning what I think you’re planning.”

“And if I sit on my arse, something worse will happen. Everything I plan has a risk. I rather make a mistake in my plans than waiting on the fucker to attack again ‘cause if anything happened to you again, I’d probably burn the bastard.” Ron saw her face and tried to soften his expression. “I can’t lose you or get my arse tossed in Azkaban.”

* * *

Ron checked his wand a third time since he came into the office. His broom was stashed at the training ground where he would apparate once the portkeys were sent off. Jones was also present, to be the official Senior on the training hop while he and Harry ambushed the 7 other juniors cadets. The numbers made it work. Three man teams working against an unknown force.

He just had to bring them all back in the same shape as they were when they leave.

“Ready?”

“Yeah. You go on out there. I’ll apparate to my assigned point and get started. You just watch where you point that wand of yours.”

“I’m not intentionally trying to hit you.”

“Speccy git!”

“Gormless prat!” Harry left the office and Ron put his wand in the holster on his arm.

“Time to get started,” he muttered to himself before leaving his office to walk downstairs. He almost ran over Ms. Blunt who was walking towards his office in a hurry. “Senior Weasley, this came in a few minutes ago for you.”

“From a particular source?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes, it seems so. I took the liberty of removing the outer envelope to protect your source.” She handed over the wax-sealed parchment and saw the particular signet embossed into it. “It is. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please let Ms. Granger know privately,” he smirked a little, “that my owls are being held until I return from the field today.” He leaned in closer yet not touching her at all. “And that when I get home, we’ll have takeaway from the place downstairs.”

Ms. Blunt’s eyes danced with mirth while the rest of her face stayed stoic. “I’ll gladly relay the message, privately, sir.” She departed, turning right to head towards the MLS offices.

Ron opened the sealed parchment and scanned the contents. “Bugger,” he muttered to himself before stashing the parchment inside his jacket. He saw the door to the classroom and decided to make his move. He walked into the classroom and stood quietly, waiting for the class to settle down.

“Quick announcement before we get started. There’s some nattering going on in the department about promotions coming up. Until Kingsley signs off on your particular parchment, it’s a load of bunk. So you harpies running your yap, stop. All it’s gonna do is get people pissed off if there isn’t one and get the rest of you sods prattling on, distracted from what we’re here for. Got it?”

Many faces nodded in understanding.

“Now, change in plans for today, class. Cadets, you have a free day. Go enjoy it. Don’t get arrested. Apprentices and Juniors, you’re to take the portkeys provided for today’s unannounced field training day.”

Groans erupted in the class.

“Quit your griping and sort out. Juniors, you’re lead on this training exercise. Apprentices, two each with a Junior. It’ll be three-man teams today for this hop.”

Ron watched most of the cadets depart and the apprentices gather around the 7 juniors in their class. He spied Smythe and Shafiq staying at the doorway, patiently awaiting him. He nodded and smiles erupted on their faces.

“Now that the rest of the cadets have left, Shafiq and Smythe are going to assist me on our hop today. They have top marks and earned their place. Now, for the rest of you sods, there are seven books hidden in this room. Each one is a portkey. They won’t activate for seven minutes. I’m taking my minions to get ready. Find the books and you’ll be on the hop.” Ron went to the door and stopped. “Oh, and if you think it’s an easy _accio_ , think again. Each book is magically affixed to their hiding place, courtesy of my wife. Any group not present at today’s training gets zero marks for the week, Junior and apprentice. Further, anyone missing today’s hop probably won’t be considered for any promotions in rank, regardless of how you’ve done until this point.”

The remaining students groaned again.

“Six minutes and counting.”

Ron left the room with two cadets in tow, hearing the rest scrambling around the room.

“Did Ms.Granger hide them?”

Ron walked ahead of the other two, smiling. “Nah. But I did make them invisible and used a sticking charm on them to keep them from being magically _accio’d_. Harry taught me that sometimes, you have to get on your hands and knees to find the important stuff. But I wonder if they will work together or individually?” he said to himself.

Ron turned the corner with the other two and stopped.

“Now, I know both of you are talented wizards and witch, but to get where we are going, I’m going to take you via side-along apparition. Otherwise, you’d never know where we are going.”

“And that is?”

“My family’s farm, out in Devon. It’s about fifty acres now, and since the house is protected, we use the remaining property for our training drills.” Ron smiled. “Once the training mission is finished, the group of students will interview Mrs. Weasley. See, she’s a crime victim. And I want you guys talking with one who lived through her ordeal. And once we’re done, Mum will feed us late lunch.”

“Um, sir, I don’t know if - “ Shafiq bungled what she was going to say.

“Cadet, I took the liberty of picking up some halal meat yesterday from a particular butcher just off Diagon Alley. The meal will not violate your faith.”

Cadet Shafiq lowered her head, whispering for a second. “Thank you, Captain Weasley, for your foresight.”

“But make sure you eat your weight today. Mum won’t hear otherwise.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ron put his arms out. “Ready to take on the juniors? I’ll explain when we land.”

They each held onto his arms and he disapparated them to the huge field back behind the Burrow’s orchard. They landed deftly, with Ron looking up into the air and saluting. Two red sparks flew above his head before they disappeared.

“Now, let’s get you cloaked,” he pulled his wand and made the two cadets disappear. “You will be taught that particular charm after today’s lesson. That’s your prize for being top of the class so far. The others won’t learn it until they are apprentices. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” both barked back even though Ron couldn’t see them now.

“Now, there are three brooms. The Cleansweep 2002 model is mine. The two Legacy 100’s are for you to use today. The object is to stun your opponents only. Use your brooms or hide and apparate. I don’t want to know. But the object is to take everyone out that you can. I want to test the juniors on their leadership skills with an inexperienced team.”

“And if we stun them?”

“Keep a tally. If anyone stuns a Senior, you’ll get something. But no one’s ever stunned more than Hemera doing this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ron watched the two brooms disappear and heard them take off. He turned towards the landing area and waited. Sure enough, three groups fell slowly to the earth, each of the juniors landing gracefully while the apprentices were a little wobbly on their feet. Brumby, McKenzie, and Mallory landed easily and helped their team.

“Anyone else?”

“There might be one more coming, sir. Three groups hadn’t found their book when our portkey activated.” Brumby brushed the dirt off his trousers while McKenzie helped his two teammates up from the ground. Ron looked up and saw one more floating down before landing in a heap. Archer landed awkwardly with two others on top of him. “Sorry, sir. I saw the portkey activate and we flew off, barely attached. It’s a wonder we made it all in one piece. I do know that we left behind Carrington, Edwards, and Wellington.

“Well they’ll be in a spot of bother, I reckon.” Ron waited 2 more minutes before three books appeared without Aurors attached. “Well, that’s it then. Four groups. Then for the apprentices, you’ll have top marks for today, for showing up. Anything past this is extra credit. For the four juniors,” Ron saw Mallory present before him, along with their team. “The object is to locate the unknown number of Aurors, along with Smythe and Shafiq and to capture them. _Incarcerous_ only, along with stunners. No _fiendfyre_ and no _bombada_. This is my family home, including the orchard, so no torching the damn thing. Got it? Now, there are four teams of you, going up against an unknown number of assailants. Finally, there’s a time limit. You’ve got 3 hours to track and capture everyone.”

“Why the time limit, sir?”

Ron looked at his gathering. “The time limit is that once your mission is completed, you’re to interview Mrs. Weasley who is a kidnapping victim. You’re to interview her without getting hexed and if you do a well enough job, she’ll feed you a hot meal. Finally, my Mum gets beastly when people aren’t there when dinner is ready. She’s willing to talk to you, so you can know what it’s like to survive those circumstances.

“Now, stunners only. The top of Stoatshead Hill is the boundary for our training exercise. Be mindful and work together as best as you can.”

“Are you participating, sir?”

“Not today. I’m the observer today. Auror Jones, though, is out there somewhere, ready to take you guys down with a stunner, too.”

The three groups looked at one another and grimaced.

Ron pointed his wand skyward and sent red sparks up into the air. Six sets were returned.

“Three hours, Aurors. Go.”

The groups ran for the orchard and some cover while Ron went to collect his broom so he could observe today.

He glanced at his watch. A little past 10. He felt the galleons clinking inside his moleskin pouch in his jacket - a friendly wager between Harry and Jones and himself on how many would get caught. Ron said that 2 of them would last the duration. Harry said all of them would. Jones plunked over her five galleons and said she would be the only one to not get caught.

Ron happily took his broom up above the trees to watch what was happening below. Somewhere below him, among the trees, were Two senior Aurors, and 2 cadets. He’d disillusion himself once the first one went down and quietly help the downed Auror. That was what he wanted to prove to the juniors and apprentices - that the rules in a situation could change in a heartbeat and you had to adapt and overcome. Marquis of Queensbury rules became obsolete the day that the sodding Death Eaters gave no quarter to women and children. He’d teach his students that this was street rules and there was no such thing as cheating by the bad guys.

He shifted on his broom after a while and glanced at his watch. It’d been an hour and hadn’t seen a bloody thing from above the treetops. He had two more hours before he’d be sitting on the bench in the kitchen, getting a bite of something Mum made while listening to her talk about her kidnapping to the students.

A bright red light went up from the other side of the orchard. He pointed his broom towards the magical sparks in the air until he was over the location. He dropped down into a clearing and saw Smythe was stunned and trussed up with rope.

Ron pointed his wand at the young man’s face and waited until the cadet was sitting upright. “How’d they get you?”

“I tripped on a root and made a noise. They were on me immediately and hit me with a stunner to the back. Next thing I know, I see your face.”

“Then here,” Ron handed over his broom. “Go on up and observe from above the treetops. I’m changing the rules.”

“Sir?”

“Criminals never follow the rules. So why should training be equally regimented? No, the rules change and the students have to adapt. So observe above the trees and when someone sends up _Periculum_ , fly to their location and wake them straightaway.”

“And you, sir?”

“I’m going to go chase down my objective.” Ron handed over his broom before tapping his wand on top of his head.

He disappeared from view and disapparated from that spot to the other side of the orchard, next to Fred’s Oak Tree. He stayed low and looked around for anyone who could be hiding. Sure enough, he spotted some shimmering outlining one particular tree, about 10 meters away. He crouched low and silently cast _Immobulus_ and watched 2 more shimmers next to the tree. He cast the same spell towards the other two and froze them too.

Ron moved with stealth under the disillusionment charms before kneeling down next to the three. He removed the cover and saw Mallory’s face. “You were sloppy, Mallory. You’re better than this.” He pointed his wand skyward and fired off his own spell before disapparating again to another clearing in the orchard. He landed behind a copse of trees and saw spells firing back and forth. As fast as the spells were firing from one side, he knew it was Jones. No one else could spellcast as fast as she could. Only Harry was faster but he’d do such as a last resort.

He watched to gauge their position but before he could start the incantation, she’d picked off all three. He stayed in position and saw the next group uncovered. Jones worked quickly to secure them before firing off periculum into the sky.

“Stand down. Misson completed. All four sets of Aurors have been captured. I repeat, all four sets of Aurors have been captured. Stand down,” Harry’s voice boomed.

“Bugger, that was ninety minutes.” Ron disapparated again to the Oak tree where he saw the Juniors and their apprentices looking sheepish. He removed his own disillusionment and watched Harry and Hemera remove theirs, along with Shafiq. Smythe landed his broom and handed it back to Ron.

“What happened? I expected the groups to last at least 2 hours.”

“Sorry sir,” Brumby refused to look up from his boots. “I didn’t listen to my apprentices who knew better and got us trapped on the edge of the clearing. We were stuck in no man's land and were picked off one by one. I know we took out one but I only know I got caught out. There must have been three of you throwing spells our way.”

“I finished them off,” Harry spoke up first.

“Archer?”

“We were hunkered down and the next thing I knew, I woke up here.” Archer looked at his two trainees, looking sheepish. “I got my team captured and I don’t have a sodding clue how we were picked off.”

“I can answer that,” Shafiq spoke up. “They stumbled upon my position via Apparition. I had taken up position in a tree, about 8 meters up. One of them slipped in a stream and got mud all over themselves. I saw a shimmer of the other two and stunned them in succession.”

“I’m not going to bother asking you since I picked all of you off. I’ll explain later why you were an easy target.” Ron turned towards the last group.

“And you three?”

McKenzie looked defiant. “We had a good position and I saw someone. I fired off a stunner and then it was like we were set upon by six people. Then another person took out the apprentices before I woke up here.”

Ron saw Jones smirking. “Sorry McKenzie but it was just me. There weren’t six of us to take you on.”

“And what else did you do, you git? You take a kip up a tree somewhere?”

“I flew around looking and didn’t see anyone else ‘til the notice sounded.”

“You need your eyes checked, mate.”

“And I didn’t see you. I saw Smythe up a broom but not you.”

“I took his place once he was knocked out.”

“You changed the rules,” Archer yelled. “That’s cheating.”

Ron stalked up to Dan Archer. “Cheating is Quidditch. Cheating is Chess. Cheating is gobstones. This is a bloody mission, even if it’s training. The criminals we’re chasing won’t follow laws and rules. They will break every law possible to either get away - or to take you out. They have no qualms ambushing you. They have zero reason to show you mercy. If you do not fight, they will kill you slower. They have no problems using Unforgivable Curses to kill you. And if you think that you don’t have to follow archaic rules in the middle of a wand fight, think again. You are held to Auror standards but get it through your thick skull: Your _opponent_ isn’t hindered.

“So you have to think smarter, work harder, work within the framework of the Aurors, and still bring in criminals alive. Got that!”

“Yes, sir,” the twelve trainees barked back.

“If you think for one moment that you are going to break laws and rules without consequences, be prepared for one of us,” Ron motions to the rest, “or all of us to come to hunt you down for breaking the law, too.”

“Yes, sir,” the apprentices yelped.

“Sir? How was it that all of us who were ‘the bad guys’ on this mission took out the Aurors so easily? I expected them to put up more of a fight.”

“We’ll talk about that in the next class session. But your next part is that you have a kidnap victim to interview - and to get through it without either getting your ears twisted off or being hexed into next month. You make it through the interview with Mrs. Weasley and there probably is a meal waiting at the end of it.” Ron and Harry took lead, heading towards the Burrow. “And eat up as much as you want. Mum planned on all of the Juniors and apprentices showing up. Since it’s just us instead, there should be plenty to tide us over before we return to London.”

Ron stepped aside to hold the door open for the rest. Sure enough, Mum was inside, waiting to talk. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“See anything dodgy today?” Ron watched the group settle into their chairs. 

“Not a bloody thing.” 

“Fuck.”


	11. Crossing the T's and Dotting the Eyes

* * *

Ron opened the door to their flat and was greeted immediately with the smells of Hermione’s cooking. Pasta marinara greeted him happily - and with pasta was garlic bread, salad, and wine for Hermione. “I’m home, and I brought takeaway.”

Hermione pulled the garlic bread out of the oven and smiled. “I know you said you’d pick up takeaway but you’re usually famished on training days so I made dinner. And if you don’t eat everything, there are leftovers.”

Ron dropped the sack of takeaway and went to his wife immediately, hugging her warmly after a long day. “Missed you,” he spoke into her hair. “So glad to be home.”

She smiled up at him and saw the shadows on his face. “No luck?”

“Not a bloody thing. The training went off without a hitch but sod all, there was nothing dodgy or wonky going on, ‘cept I have two very sharp cadets who will make great Aurors one day.” He frowned further. “Three Juniors missed their portkey to the training destination so they get zero marks for the week. And since it’s a month from Fitreps, they might be the ones stuck another year in Junior purgatory, or if they are in their second year, like Wellington, they might be out of the program.”

“That might be a good reason for someone to force the issue.”

“It’s related but I’m buggered if I know how.”

Hermione picked up a bottle of butterbeer and handed it over. “Have dinner and once you’ve eaten, we can look over the reports or anything else that might need attention tonight. I’m caught up so I can help how you need tonight.”

“Dinner can wait.” He put the butterbeer back down on the table. His face was stormy and his discontent was barely suppressed on his face. “I need you.”

Hermione put the second dinner under warming charms before pulling him from the kitchen. “Whatever you need, love.” She led him to their bedroom before kicking the door closed.

An hour later, which included many crass comments by Ron and a few by Hermione, they were cuddling under the bedcovers.

“So did the hiding places work?” Hermione asked while snuggled up to her now calm and content husband.

“They did. They had a look of panic when I told them they couldn’t use magic to pull the books to themselves and they had to look for them. It obviously worked since three of them made their portkey - and a fourth got there by the ends of his fingernails - with his team holding onto his trousers.”

“You’d think the groups would have worked together and ridden one portkey.” Hermione frowned. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“They are too competitive to work together when that was what I was expecting them to do. Dumb sods.”

Hermione leaned up on Ron’s chest, looking at his face in the dwindling candlelight. “Is that what was bothering you, that some failed to get there for the training?”

Ron lay there quietly while considering how to word what he was thinking.

“I don’t know why they refuse to work together as a team. Had they all rode the first portkey, or even the first two, everyone would have gotten their marks for the week and it would have eventually been an unequal fight. But since it was only 4 teams and five of us, they were outmatched.” He heaved out a deep breath. “Why can’t I get them to work together?”

“Could it be that they thought that since there might be only one slot open for promotion, that they have to stand out from the rest, and that risk is why three failed this week?”

“Well, that’s stupid, for sure! These people are the ones they will have to work with, out in the field. Why can’t they work together now, and let their talents in other ways distinguish themselves? Being cutthroat doesn’t help anyone.”

Hermione touched his face and he leaned into her cooling touch. “When you went through training, how many trained with you?”

“No one, since it was after the war and the Aurors were short-handed. I worked with Smythe almost exclusively the first four years.” His face relaxed some. “Sure there were training missions, and it was after the first year that we actually had enough people to have a mock mission as training. But what we’re doing now? Never.”

“And when did they change to this new way of doing things? Wasn’t it this year?”

“I don’t get it.” Only his years of maturity, thanks largely in part of being friends with Hermione and working with the Aurors gave him the outward courage to admit when he didn’t understand something relating to his job. Hermione never questioned his lack of knowledge, thankfully. “What does that have to do with our problem? Even when it was an apprenticeship, promotions weren’t guaranteed, much less often. Hell, until this year, there weren’t instructors; it was a pure apprenticeship and if you survived, and the senior agreed, you were promoted. If your Senior refused to agree, you were transferred to MLS as a bailiff.”

Ron shifted, moving his hands behind his head on the pillow. “Now, though, they changed the requirements and stipulations, especially for the Juniors, and they are scrambling to get the promotions which might or might not happen.”

She moved her hands off his face and put them on his overheated chest. “So the seven have had to adapt and overcome, and some of them might be asked to move to MLS and not continue. Wouldn’t that stress you out and make you more cutthroat?”

Ron shrugged. “No, because being cutthroat is wrong.”

“And didn’t you tell me that you intended to instigate the Juniors, reminding them that a promotion to full-grade Auror wasn’t guaranteed unless signed off on two senior Aurors on their paperwork?”

“Well, yeah.”

“So I fully expect the ones who missed the portkey to get desperate this coming week to keep their place in the possible promotion list.”

“How desperate?” Ron’s eyes narrowed. “You think next week would be an opportunity for our turncoat to try something again?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.” She shrugged. “If I were that desperate, I’d do it.”

Ron pulled her down for a sulfur tinged kiss and the conversation drifted away.

 

* * *

“Weasley?”

Ron looked up from the stack of parchment on his desk, quietly thanking Hemera for the break in the fitreps he was reviewing. “Something up?”

“Yeah, and you won’t believe it.” Hemera walked in with Harry behind her. He closed the door and locked it.

“Oh, this can’t be good.”

Harry’s face went dark. “It’s not. But you need to know.”

Ron pushed aside the stack before sitting back. “I’m listening.”

Harry ignored the quip. “Hemera received this yesterday, via owl. I intercepted yours while at your desk when you stepped away to the loo.” Harry handed both pieces of parchment over and Ron read them up and down.

“And I know this is rubbish, considering who my wife is. This is a bunch of dragon dung. Isn’t it?” Ron looked at Hemera and her face could resemble being cut from obsidian. Ron looked at Harry. “Didn’t you get one?”

“No. But I’m more concerned about Hemera.”

Ron saw her stoic mask slip for a brief moment and saw fear on her face.

“Hemera? I know you think we’re wankstains but we’re also a team. We want to help.” Ron saw Harry nodding. “Talk to us.”

Her face finally dropped the mask go and she slumped in her chair. “You read the note. It’s bullshit. It’d be like you even looking at other women.” Ron’s face turned bright red and so did Harry’s. “Aurora is amazing, brilliant, level-headed but so passionate. Why would I even consider looking somewhere else? Hell, I dated guys and shagged a few before I met her - but that all fell away when I was assigned to Hogwarts and met Aurora.” She took a deep breath. “It was like I came home after a long mission like your reunions is with your spouses.”

Ron nodded. Harry did too.

“I’m with Aurora and that’s it. But it also doesn’t mean I don’t get hit on. I do, either while working or otherwise. I’ve been with her for years, and I still get addresses slipped into my pocket, or people whispering in my ear for sharing a bed. I’ve turned down so many, and while I am brusque about it, I try to be kind when refusing their advances.” She turned her face towards the door. “I’d never hurt Aurora. She’s precious to me.”

“So you think someone is using this as leverage, in an attempt to get a promotion? Do you think that’s why they sent me one too?”

Ron slid back a touch at the tsunami on her face. “If I catch the sod who is trying to blackmail me for a bloody promotion, they’ll wish they fell off their broom at Hogwarts as a firstie.”

“We’ll handle it, Hemera.” Harry reached out towards her and yanked his hand back when she turned on him.

“Rubbish, Potter. They are coming after me, threatening Aurora and my relationship. It’s a bloody mess and I refuse to give into it.”

“And you won’t. But let us handle it since I know that Ron’s never stepped out on Hermione.” Harry glanced over and Ron was frantically nodding his head.

“Put me in the ward with Lockhart if I ever do, Harry.”

Both Harry and Ron gave her a hard look. “See? Can you say the same thing, Hemera? Can you say with 100 percent certainty that you’ve never even flirted with another person while with Aurora? Can you verify to Kingsley under Veritaserum that you’ve never snogged another person, man, woman, or another being?”

She scowled. “Go Fuck Yourself.”

“It’s not unheard of to have a Centaur appreciation.” Ron’s grin gave away the mirth from his comments. “We had to make sure, just like you would with us.”

“You gits.” She sat up taller in the other chair. “Now what are we going to do about our blackmailer?”

“Did anyone else get notices via owl?”

“Not that I know of. But then I do know that the other two seniors are out on assignment and won’t be back until early July. And Williamson?” She shook her head. “I doubt he’s in any shape to reply to owls, much less spend hours on reports and fitreps. He’s probably on pain potions still.”

Ron looked at Harry and saw his best mate looking befuddled. “So why didn’t this git receive a blackmail note?”

Harry sat up tall in his chair. “Because I’ve only told you and Hemera about such, no one else.” He grinned. “So no one knows I’m a Senior ‘cept for you two, along with Robards and Kingsley.”

Hemera scowled even further. “When I catch this blackmailing traitor, I’m hanging them by their toes from the top of the Astronomy tower while Aurora and I have a dinner date. And that’s the nicest thing I can think of.”

“Does Kingsley know?”

“He does, along with Gawain. Both are ready to do worse than I am with this git. The least that’s going to happen is this sod will be drummed out of the Aurors - permanently. Kingsley said if it goes any further, they’ll be in Azkaban for a few years, at the least.”

“What can we do?” Harry asked.

“Let’s make it simple.” Ron smiled and it wasn’t the one he gave his friends. “We tell everyone that promotions are on hold for a year, and all but the cadets have to repeat it.”

“And Wellington, since he’s in his second year?”

“He’s out.” Her face held some compassion. “But I’ll see to him getting a place with MLS. He’s a good bloke, even if he’s a touch slow out in the field.”

“Let’s hold off on making it official, first. Maybe if we announce it - without making it permanent ‘til the Fitreps are issued, we might catch our turncoat.”

“You think it’s all related?”

Ron stared at the door. “It’s all too dodgy to not be connected. The murder of Cavendish, the Blackmail of him, possibly, and now this? But I’m arsed to see how it’s all connected.”

“If we find out that the Cavendish murder is related to the rest of this, I doubt our fiend will make it to Azkaban.”

“They have to make it to trial, Hemera. You know that as well as anyone else.”

“Of course I do. I’m not going to kill them. But they will wish they had been.”

 

* * *

 

Ron stood before the oak door and knocked twice. A very guttural and gruff ‘ _Enter_ ’ erupted through the door. He opened it and closed it quietly behind him, finding Director Robards sitting at his desk surrounded by mountains of parchment.

“Weasley! Nice to see your sorry arse back in here.”

“Sir,” He retorted before coming to stand before the desk.

“Please tell me you have a bloody update and progress report on this whole damn situation. I’m up to my nose hairs with the bloody Wizengamot on finding who killed an Auror with an unintentional assassin.”

“Sir,” Ron handed over about four inches of parchment. Robards put it in a pile on the edge of his desk. “Sod the paperwork and tell me what you know.”

“My report says it’s all connected to the probationary Aurors in the department. There are seven who are up for promotion for the two slots and I’m boggled who it might be.

Potter, Jones, and I have been putting them through sessions in an attempt to coax out the potential infiltration and they’ve not bitten yet. But we think the class session tomorrow will be the provocation needed.”

“And you’ve got a plan ready to go, right?”

“Yes, sir. And the feathers will fly when we make the announcement. But I need your help in on it, too.”

“And that is?” The gruff Auror sat back in his leather office chair. “Please tell me it’s not something that I’ll get called before the Wizengamot for. I’m already sick of their bureaucratic posturing. You’d think they were prized Hippogriffs jostling for a morsel of dragon meat.”

“Well, the idea is telling all the apprentices and Juniors that all promotions are on hold for a year, with some rubbish excuse of budget cuts and other mess. It’s not entirely true but we want to use it as a provocation for drawing out the potential troublemaker.”

“And if they don’t bite? You know that Aurors are great about keeping their wits about them, even if they are ready to breathe fire.”

“We’re going to use the class opening to divulge that Potter is to be promoted to Senior but no juniors will be promoted. That catches Junior Wellington in the bind since he’s the only one who repeated the year’s lessons. But it’s not official at all since Fitreps aren’t due for a month but it should provoke a reaction.”

“Do I even want to know more than this, should the juniors come to me complaining?”

“If anyone does come to complain or beg, all you have to say is that the Seniors refuse to sign off on any of the juniors right now, and you don’t know why they refuse to give their approvals.”

“And that’s because?” His voice trailed off.

“It’s better you do not know, yet.”

“Because you’re protecting me and Kingsley right now from any possible and potential problems, right?”

“Yes, sir. The three of us think that Cavendish’s murder is directly related to the failed kidnapping attempt.”

“And you think it’s one of the juniors in the department?”

“Nothing else makes sense, sir, and I can’t figure out why. Sure, the training is hard to get to this point and there are slots that get filled by only the best. But if you make it to this point, you’ve got a job making plenty of galleons. So I am boggled why someone would go to these lengths if the whole point is to get promoted to Auror.”

Robards motioned towards the chair in front of his desk and Ron took it. “You know the history of the Aurors, right?”

“Yes, sir. Smythe taught me well. And it was more interesting than anything my wife nattered on historically.”

“Then I bet he didn’t go into details of who the Aurors were then, did he?”

“No, sir.”

“Before Moody retired, every Auror had to be at least a high standing Half-blood, if not a Pureblood. Most of them either came from Slytherin House or Gryffindor. The records for the previous one hundred years had little mentions of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. See, back then, the Ministry was more regimented and biased towards the Purebloods. It’s only since Kingsley took over that it’s more on merit than heritage, even if the heritage plays into it still.” He looked Ron over. “Even then, you’d have been an Easy pick, if you got the recommend. Potter, not guaranteed.”

“That’s not right, sir.”

“Tonks demonstrated that idea was rubbish,” Robards grunted. “I sure do miss that Pink haired pain in my ass.”

“So you think I should look at our seven again to see who might have those biases?”

“It might not hurt. There might be one of them who feels entitled to it, regardless of whether they did the work to earn it.” He took his whiskey bottle out of the drawer and took a pull from it. “The unwritten history is that _accidents_ occurred from time to time, to get another slot for a promotion. Or maybe the kidnapper had a half-arsed idea that kidnapping a Hero and making a grand rescue would suffice for promotion, leapfrogging from Junior to Senior.”

Ron gave Robards a shifty look. “That’s bollocks, sir.”

“I thought I’d throw a motive out there for you to think on.”

“Fuck. That makes too much sense, sir. But what about Cavendish? How does he figure into all of this?”

“Maybe he was in on it. Maybe he was being blackmailed into it. Maybe he was threatened. We have no clue since he’s dead.”

“But he was a Senior Auror, sir. You signed off on his promotion. He would have nothing to gain from it.”

“I know that. I sign off on every promotion, Weasley. To earn a promotion to Senior Auror, you have to have done something extraordinary. Your extraordinary actions were saving countless lives during the apprehension of Avery. Accidentally killing Dolohov didn’t count in our decision. For Potter, it was the Brown case. And Cavendish was promoted in 1998 when he rescued the tour bus full of Muggles that was sabotaged by that git Avery before it plunged into the river, and the few who were still on it when it sank.” He leaned over and stored his bottle of beverage in the drawer. “Think about it, Weasley. You and Potter get kidnapped. There’s a huge rescue mission to bring you back. One of the juniors throws an idea out - one that doesn’t make much sense but leads you to the kidnappers. They get credit for helping rescue you - which you might not have been in any real danger ‘cept to those who took you - and they get their promotion.”

“That’s bloody sick, sir. Where did you get that barmy idea? Don’t the Juniors understand how many people vanished during the war, how many just disappeared and no trace was ever found?” Ron popped his knuckles. “Merlin, my own bloody mother was kidnapped and nearly died. Who’d play such a barmy game with people’s lives?”

Gawain smiled and it wasn’t pretty. “Happened to me with my junior, Weasley. But back then, way before Scrimgeour was thinking about a Directorship, he was an ambitious young man and had discussed it with the Director. He approved and used it as a “training” session. Bollocks to me but it worked for him to get his promotion.” Robards pointed his finger menacingly towards Ron. “But that was the 1950s, not now. I bet whoever had the idea picked it up from an old Auror, or one who worked in the Ministry then and thought about it. If some sod thought it was a bright idea, considering the two wars we’ve had, they have another thing coming.

“Now catch me my traitor so they can never see the light of day.”

* * *

“You gits ready?”

Hemera nodded. Harry did too.

“You know I’m expecting the worse. I honestly expect chaos and mayhem once we make the announcement today. But I want to save it for the end of the session. If we announce it at the beginning, then we won’t get a word in to discuss last week’s mock-up mission.”

“So you want to talk about that?”

“Yeah. I know we’ll get some angry questions from the three who didn’t catch the portkey last week.”

“And you should.” Hemera stopped short of the hallway leading to the seminar room. “That was a cruel idea, playing hide and go seek with the portkeys in the seminar room.”

Ron turned and glared. “The idea,” he growled and saw Harry silently begging him to keep his temper in check, “was to teach the candidates in that room that they can’t be completely dependent on magic because shit happens and we’re supposed to be able to adapt and overcome. Why not make it a touch different, where they had to think differently to achieve their goal? So I made them work under a deadline and three failed. If they fail something simple as finding a sodding portkey, then how will they fail out in the field, blowing surveillance on a suspect, or even missing vital clues when trying to capture a suspect?”

“You’re trying to fail them.”

“No, I’m not. But I’ll be arsed that I don’t push them to work and work together. They didn’t and three failed the basics, losing a week’s worth of marks. Two of them needed them to stay competitive. Carrington wasn’t affected by it.

“You ask me if I want them to fail. I don’t. I want them to work together, like a team, so we have to make Robards justify a budget increase so we can hire more Aurors. But they didn’t. They were being selfish sods and three failed.” Ron saw Harry motioning and ignored him. “I want them working together so we can’t choose who to promote.”

“You’re playing with fire, Weasley.”

Ron saw Harry nodding. “I know. But there is a damn traitor and I want them out of the Corps. They will give us more problems than problems solved.” Ron took off for the room and let the other two follow.

Ron stalked away from the other two, fuming at the implications. Sod all who thought he wanted people to fail. He quit that train of thought, hard, and tried to stifle the scowl on his face. He made it into the room and the gathering went silent immediately.

He saw the juniors sitting on the front row, away from everyone else. Even with them, there was some separation between the ones who made the mission last week and the ones who didn’t.

“Captain Weasley, I must protest last week,” Junior Carrington spoke up before Ron had time to put his satchel down. “The conditions to earn our place were unfair and biased. I demand, on behalf of those who missed it, another opportunity.”

“You’re being an ass, Carrington.” Mallory pointed at the other Junior. “You’re pissed because you didn’t catch your portkey. You’re pissed that you missed a week’s marks and now might not be picked for promotion since I’m now the best.” He scowled. “You’re barmy because you think you’re bloody entitled to everything everyone else works their arse off. Your family connections don’t mean shit with this group.”

“Fuck you, wankstain.” She glared at Mallory. “That bloody portkey took off before the time was up.” She turned on Ron and pointed at him. “Asshole instructor set the bloody portkeys for four minutes. I know ‘cause I counted.”

Ron glared back at the Junior. “One more word, Carrington, and you’ll have another week of no marks. Unlike Wellington here, who has been in my office every day the past week, playing me in chess to earn marks he missed last week.”

She turned her ire on the man sitting next to her and he shied back slightly. “What? This is my last chance and sod all if I blow it by not giving it everything. I don’t have your family connections to secure a place in the Corps. Some of us have to work for it.”

“And you?”

Edwards smirked slightly, reminding Ron of Malfoy when he was being especially ferret-like. “You’re beastly because the other sods caught their portkey and you didn’t. You’re the only one demanding another opportunity rather than sucking up your mistake and learning from it.” He turned to the three at the front of the room. “So I missed my portkey. My marks are good enough right now to keep me in the program.”

“Anyone else want to natter on about last week’s portkey issue?” No one offered any further complaint. “Now let me ask this,” Ron watched Hemera and Harry sit on the front row on the other end from the door. “Why the hell didn’t all of you catch the first two portkeys? I set each one to carry 25.”

Vile epithets and imprecations rattled the room, all pointed at the juniors on the front row.

“Enough,” Ron barked, silencing the group. “Why the hell didn’t any of you work together?” He scanned the room and felt the tension from the entire gathering. “Each of you sitting on this front row stand out from one another, but by now, I expect all of you working together.”

“Someone answer him,” Hemera’s voice was soft, which was more dangerous than her yelling.

“He said there were seven portkeys, so we took that to mean that we had to take our teams separately,” Mallory spoke up first. “None of us considered that you wanted all the teams on the first two portkeys.”

Ron looked over the group and shook his head. “I’m bloody disappointed in the Juniors. I expected better from all of you, to lead your teams and work together. You’re a month away from Fitreps and you’re still fighting like children learning how to use your wands.”

“Our Seniors - “

“Rubbish, Carrington. At this point in your training, we -” he waved his hands towards Hemera and Harry, “expect you to be able to think, work within the parameters of the regulations of the Aurors Corps but also lead your team, not depend on every single instruction coming from your Senior.”

“But if we deviate from the training,” she argued back, “then we’re docked points for going against the Seniors on the mission.”

“When have you ever been docked, Carrington?” Hemera chided. “I’ve not heard of a single demerit towards you in the two years of training.”

The junior blushed slightly, “Wellington, he - “

“I’m talking to you.” Hemera stared hard at the young woman on the front row. “If this is the first time you’ve cocked up a mission because you missed the bleeding portkey, then suck it up and learn from your mistake and don’t repeat it. Like real Aurors,” Hemera looked around the whole room, “you make mistakes; you learn from them and don’t repeat them, you or anyone else. That’s how you stay alive - and keep your team alive.”

“But you said,” Carrington whined.

“What did I say, Junior?” Hemera’s look at the much younger witch was withering.

Carrington refused to go further.

“Does anyone else want to natter on, wasting valuable class time today? We still have the debriefing from last week’s training mission.”

A knock on the door distracted Ron from the group. He saw Ms. Blunt in the doorway with a parchment in her hands. “This came for you, sir. I was instructed that I should bring it to you straightaway.” She handed the wax-sealed parchment over and stood in the doorway reading the two feet of parchment in the hurried yet eloquent script. “Thank you,” he told Ms. Blunt and turned back to the room.

Ron raised his hands up when he saw the wand pointed at him. Harry was lying in a pile in the corner, stunned, and Hemera was wrapped in heavy ropes along with Carrington, too.

“Shit.” Ron kept his hands up and his eyes on the wand pointed at him. “Your career as an Auror is over.”

“That silly arsed stunt cost me my dream.” Ron tried to dodge but was hit with the bright red light of the stunning spell.


	12. Assembling the Team

Ron opened his eyes and saw the concerned face of Seamus Wellington. Shafiq and Smythe were being him while Harry was being tended to by McKenzie and Archer. Brumby wasn’t present in the room and neither was Edwards.

“Sir, say something!”

Ron blinked a few times, trying to dispel the stars floating in his eyes. “That didn’t go like I expected.” He sat up and groaned. “Bloody hard stunner.”

“You landed badly, sir. The Auror Healer is on their way to check you out.”

Brumby stumbled back in, his chest heaving. “They’ve been informed. They’ll be here in a few minutes.” He bent back over, sucking in more breath.

Ron got to his feet and saw Harry wobbling slightly. “Rubbish on that. I’ve hurt myself worse wrestling with that git.” He took a step and his head was clearing. He shook his head and saw the faces of the cadets and apprentices looking gobsmacked, some stowing their wands and refusing to make eye contact. At least that part of his plan went accordingly.

“Well done, everyone. Full marks for the class. That is how you hold your fire in a hostage-taking situation.” Harry toddled over and saw Ron’s ears turning red, trying to hide his discontent. “Juniors, stay but class dismissed. The Juniors have a surprise training hop today.”

Minutes ticked by as the cadets and apprentices collected their items and slowly left the room. Shafiq and Smythe stood along the opposite wall, waiting anxiously like children waiting on Father Christmas.

“Get over here, you two.” They hustled over, taking seats to listen.

Wellington spoke up, “That wasn’t a training exercise, sir. “The look on his face betrayed the question he didn’t ask.

“No, it wasn’t.” Ron was over spoken by Robards who stalked into the room. “That was one of our moles.”

“But Mallory?”

“It’s not Mallory, is it, Daniel? She used him like she used everyone else.”

Archer sat back down in one of the chairs. “No, sir.” He sighed before putting his head in his hands. “I told her she was being stupid.”

“Ron?” Harry inquired first. Ron handed over the parchment to Harry, with Robards reading over his shoulder.

“Ron, this is… wow. I never expected them to come through.”

Robards snarled. “Who the bloody hell sent that?”

Ron refused to smile. “A source, cultivated for this case, which I refuse to divulge on the part of it being a sensitive Pureblood network.”

“Sensitive Pureblood network?” Robards cursed dramatically while Harry had a smile blooming on his face. “How the hell did we miss this?”

Ron didn’t respond to Harry’s comment. “We didn’t. It was intentionally hidden, so we wouldn’t find it. Being a Pureblood has some drawbacks, for the privileges, and this was it. That’s why I did the legwork. This,” he tucked the parchment back into his pocket, “this is the tedious and trifling and dependent on asking the right people the right questions without bringing them into the situation.”

He looked at the rest. “That’s what you have to learn, once you make the grade. You have to foster a network so information doesn’t get held back when you need it. Right, Harry?”

“I couldn’t have gotten the information, that’s for sure.”

“But sir, three are gone. How are we going to track them?”

Ron and Harry smirked at one another. “Come on, we have a manipulator to catch.”

The group left the room and made their way through the maze of hallways to the Auror offices. Sure enough, Auror Nigel Williamson, with a patch on his eye and his arm still in a sling, was sitting at his desk surrounded by a large stack of parchment and a flock of memos flying around his head.

“It’s about time you sods got here. I’ve had this flock flying around my head the last hour, pecking my arms. What’s this about Hemera getting kidnapped out of a teaching room?”

Ron saw Robards giving his silent approval and spent five minutes explaining what happened, including the trap laid for the kidnapper.

“So how are we going to rescue everyone?”

“Weasley, this is your hop and your idea but my approval.” Robards sat down next to Williamson. “I’m not going, that’s for sure.”

“You and Auror Williamson will be here, sir. With this group, we’ll have our kidnap victims back in short order.”

“Juniors? That’s madness.”

“Call it a training hop, sir. There are 9 of us against 3, two of which were being controlled and manipulated. I’ll take those odds, sir.” Ron refused to break eye contact with Director Robards before Robards grunted.

“And the kidnapper, sir?” Williamson might have been busy with department Memos but he rarely missed information.

Serious looks passed between all of them. Ron went to speak up but Gawain cut across him. “Bring them in, preferably alive. But you bring back the kidnap victims alive. I don’t care how you do it because if Hemera doesn’t return, Kingsley will have all our heads.”

“The scuttlebutt going on, sir?”

“I have a perfectly reasonable excuse ready for when you bring them in.”

Ron and Harry waited with the rest and yet Gawain stayed tight-lipped. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

“Sir?” Smythe spoke up first. “When are we going to get them?”

Ron looked at his watch and grinned. “We’re just waiting on the word to come in.”

Looks passed with the rest of the group but Ron stood ready. “But how, sir?”

“Harry,” Ron spoke up first.

“We made a particular word taboo. As soon as it’s uttered, we’ll go to our landing location.”

“And where is that, Sir?”

Ron motioned Smythe and Shafiq over. “It’s a flat on Diagon Alley, across from Gringott’s. The landing site is the alley on the west side of Gringott’s. I want you two to go there now and once we arrive, your task is to stay outside the building and keep the crowds back, but also seal the doors once we go in. Someone else will set the anti-apparition wards. Whatever you do, do not come into the building. Juniors know the risk but I’ll be arsed to have your necks out. Understood?”

The two energetic cadets went to the next room, which was the only one where they could apparate out - not in.

“Those two will keep the inevitable crowds out when the rest of us storm the flat. But we won’t go before Hemera is ready.” Ron wiped his face with his off hand, muttering at it to give him a signal.

“Hemera? What!” Gawain roared.

“It’s only my hop in name, sir.”

“Weasley, what the - “

“Shut it,” Ron growled and he felt his wand shaking softly. “Come on, trust us on this Hemera,” he muttered to himself. He watched Harry watching his own shuddering wand.

Seven wands rattled at the same time. “That’s the signal. Let’s go. Landing location is the alley behind Gringott’s.”

Ron waved his wand in the proper formation, with the others in tow and focused on one particular landing spot, three meters away from Harry’s landing location. The compression caused some anxiety every time he did apparition by himself. Infinity passed in a heartbeat before he landed on the spot in question in the alley next to Gringott’s. He looked around and saw Harry staggering slightly. The others had their wands out, scanning the area immediately.

“Alright there, everyone?” Harry grunted to cover his small case of the wobbles. The remaining heads affirmed all sorted. Ron saw the building across the street, looking wretched but also reinforced. “We handle this among ourselves. This is an Auror issue, and no one else. So no blabbing to the press when we’re done.”

McKenzie’s face was a mask, along with Archer and Wellington. “Yes, sir.”

The group took off to the building across the alley, jostling a few people who were about their business. Shafiq was there and watching everything coming and going. “Once we’re inside, put up an Auror grade Blocking charm on the ground floor. Once we’re inside, there will be an anti-apparition ward put up. No one is to come in our out without my authority, not even this git. Tell Robards when he arrives that he can come in once the mission is finished.”

“We don’t know what we’re dealing with in there and I don’t want fuck all dropping on the entire alley.”

“Sorted, sir.” Her black and gold hijab contrasted with her modest grey robes. “No one will pass me.” She took up station at the front door, watching the alley.

“Come on,” Ron motioned to the front door and used magic to enter the ground entryway. They ascended the stairs, passing the first two floors before finding the door to the third and top floor. The group finally closed the door behind themselves, quietly, to hide their entrance. “Brumby, guard the door. Edwards, get those who are on the floor out of here and down the stairs. I want the floor cleared before we go in.” The other two took off, working quickly to check the remaining 7 flats on the floor. Once the two remaining residents were cleared out, Brumby guarded the door. Edwards stood next to him.

“Senior Weasley, are you sure this is the place? It’s almost like she’s expecting us. Something doesn’t seem right.”

Ron ignored the young man. “Archer, you’re on point.”

“Sir, no. She’ll kill me.”

Ron yanked him to the end of the hallway, away from the particular door. “And why the fuck not?”

“She’ll kill me as soon as look at me, sir.”

“And that’s because?” Ron’s stare made the younger man flinch.

“We dated, for a while, when we were first in the program. But a year later, she dumped me because I was competing for the same slots and promotions. She said that I was holding her back and sabotaging her.” He shuddered, once. “She called me a fuckin’ rent boy would only be good as a chambermaid, not an Auror.” His face turned bright red.

“I know you were shagging her. And, well, women say shite when they get mad.”

Archer shook his head immediately. “She tossed me aside and went chasing someone else in the department. I dunno who, but within a month, she was cocky as a Quidditch cup player. The way she had her nose in the air, you’d think she was bedding a Quidditch player.”

“Was she?”

“I dunno, maybe. Maybe she was bedding a senior.” Archer looked past his arm and the waiting group of Aurors. “She might have been shagging Cavendish, or maybe another one. Fuck all if I know.”

“Come on, then. You’re still on point. But go in with the shield up first. Two of us will shield you too, so we can take her out.”

“And the others? Are you going to kill Mallory too?”

“Why? He’s been manipulated, just like you were. Now get a move on.”

The two men joined the group at the stairwell.

“Ron?”

One particular look shut Harry up. “Later,” he said gruffly before going to the door. “Archer is on point. Wellington and Harry will cover him with shields. Everyone else, shield them. I’m rescuing the hostages.”

“Hostages? There’s only Jones.”

“No - there’s two. Mallory was Imperiused - forced to attack me and Harry. So don’t you hurt him - for any reason.” Ron saw Edwards sealing the stairwell and Brumby at the end, behind him. Someone had to guard the hallway, in case Edwards failed.

Faces turned hard before they stood before the doorway on the very end. “Harry, would you check?”

Harry pointed his wand at the door and verified. “Basic locking spells only. I detect nothing else as a trap.”

“Weren’t we here a few months ago?” Ron asked off-handedly.

“Yeah, but I doubt we’ll find 2 dead bodies inside, not this time.”

Ron bit off a chuckle. Now wasn’t the time for gallows humor. “On three.” He held his left hand out while moving his right, holding the wand, into a complicated motion. The moment the dust settled, the spell would be ready to fire.

On three, Harry blew the door lock and Archer kicked his way in first, with Harry and Wellington covering him. Ron came in almost last, scanning the room, while McKenzie was covering his back.

Mallory was on the ground, possibly dead. Jones was sitting in a chair, apparently petrified, but looked considerably worse for wear. Colby Carrington was sitting in a chair behind Hemera, holding a wand to her throat. She was disillusioned but the sparkle from the spell gave her away. Even with the spell, she made herself smaller, using the larger Auror to shield her.

“Wotcher, Weasley. She told me you were coming here. Damn it if you didn’t.” She clipped the petrified Auror, drawing blood from her ear.

“Drop the wand, Colby.” Five wands were pointed her way.

“Drop yours, all of you. I have no qualms taking her **fucking head off!** ”

No wands dropped on her demand. Harry wove a complicated movement and her disillusionment dropped, and Jones slumped, the petrification falling off of her.

“You really think you’re in control here, Carrington? Think again.” Wellington had his wand pointed right at her eyes.

“She’s a little battered but no worse for wear. And you can’t pin a thing on me. I’ve done nothing except being in the wrong places, at the wrong times. Blame the Seniors for using me for their own pleasures. I’m just holding them to their promises and obligations.”

Archer kept his wand pointed at Hemera, while the rest slowly moved away from one another, finding a position where she couldn’t hurt everyone. Archer kept a shield on Hemera, feebly trying to protect her.

McKenzie slid with him, keeping both of them shielded. “How many have died by your wand, Carrington? Two? Three?” McKenzie slid along the wall of the flat, his wand pointed at the others while shielding them.

“You’re a knob, McKenzie. I’m about to become a fucking Auror and you’re asking me how many died at my hands? None of them, you dumb fucks. No one died by my hand. There was no need, not when others were so willing to do as I asked. Isn’t that right, Daniel? How many did you sabotage to help me get to this point, on the point of being promoted?”

“Drop the wand.” Ron’s voice was stern, a fair imitation of Hermione when she was arguing before the Wizengamot. “You have no way to escape.”

“And you’re a fuckwit, Weasley.” Carrington shoved her wand into Hemera’s neck and tried to apparate away. She landed with a painful thud and a now-not petrified Hemera Jones.

“We told you, you’re not leaving this room except in ropes. Aurors are outside with an anti-apparition ward.”

“And that’s not happening, not when I’m this close to the promotion and have done everything I can to earn it.” Carrington put her wand between Jones’ eyes, forcing her stare at the wand between them. “Anyone makes a move and I won’t just kill her. I’ll put her in the Thickey ward for the rest of her life.”

“Potter, you kill this bitch now. My life doesn’t matter, as long as she’s in the ground too.”

“Drop it, now!” two voices bellowed.

“Fuck all y’all. I’ll blow the fucking building. You know I can do it.”

Ron kept his face placid. “You’d die in the blast and wouldn’t get to become a full Auror. And you’d not be the one to rescue the rest of us, earning an immediate promotion to Senior.” Harry gave him a side-eyed look and kept his wand steady on the two in front of him. “Isn’t that what you wanted, Alexis?”

Colby’s wand froze, eyeing Ron. “Who told you that you could use that name?”

“I’m an Auror and a damn fine one. I know everything about you, who you really are. Did you think that you’d get away with hiding your true identity for very long?”

“I will be an Auror,” she whispered, “and no one is going to keep me from it. I’m more worthy of it than any of these gits.”

“The only thing you’re going to have,” Harry spoke up first, “is a cell in Azkaban. No more dreams for you, not with everything you’ve done.”

Ron dropped his wand slightly. “We already know about Cavendish, and your feeble attempt of blackmailing Me, Jones, and Williamson. Having a relationship with Archer first, then Mallory just added to the list of your problems.” Ron saw that Mallory hadn’t moved a muscle since they kicked in her door. “Did you think that getting Hemera to throw away everything for your sodding promotion was going to happen? Think again, Carrington.”

Her wand dropped slightly. “You have no bloody clue? She does, and she wouldn’t lift a bloody finger to help me!” Carrington slashed her wand at Jones’ face and made a nasty cut along the cheek. “Tell them!”

“Fuck you!” Hemera spit before getting another slash across her cheek.

“Tell them!” Colby screamed in her face.

“Weasley, Potter. Step back.”

They did, understanding the unspoken instructions.

“Carrington blackmailed Cavendish into helping her pass her apprenticeship to Junior. She got him into a compromising position and said if he promoted her, she’d keep quiet. Well, you see what happened to Cavendish, right?”

Carrington shoved the wand into Jones’ throat, leaving a welt. “All of it.”

Jones made eye contact with Harry and Ron and they pulled the others.

“She approached me one night I was out without Aurora, trying everything to get me into a compromising position. I blew her off - repeatedly - and eventually left her standing in her knickers in Blackpool. I wouldn’t take a bite of the forbidden fruit - and then things went sideways, with Cavendish dead, and her cock-up on the assignment. Regardless of her position in the promotion pool, she only had one recommendation, not the required two. Missing the portkey dropped her to third place - and zero chance at promotion. She got desperate.”

“The rest,” Carrington shoved Jones completely to the floor. “And make it quick.”

“She had no real way to make Auror except through hard work and that wasn’t going to happen. You know, Weasley, that up until Shacklebolt changed the rules in the last 2 years, purebloods had a direct promotion line. Potter, he had his promotion line because of what he did. I found out that she wasn’t a Pureblood. She used it to fake her credentials, claiming Avery was her dead father, securing her place for promotion. So when I found out and started asking questions, she panicked and started blackmailing people. Everyone else who made junior are Purebloods, even if they aren’t on the Sacred 28.”

“So the thing with Avery?” Wellington spoke up first.

“My source said that brother Avery never had kids. That was a ploy and nothing more.”

“I am a Pureblood,” Carrington’s voice broke into a shriek. “Either I get that recommendation and promotion, or everyone in this room dies - everyone except me.”

“You’re not that good, Colby.”

“Shut your gob, Daniel! You’re a limp-dicked twat and a shitty lover. I’m glad I threw you over the side.”

“You’re not leaving, Colby.” Harry stepped back with the others. “And you’re not getting the promotion.” Harry looked at Ron and saw the glimmer in his eyes. “You’re not getting my recommendation. Williamson said that he won’t give it.”

Ron saw the signal from Jones and lowered his wand. “And you’re not getting mine. Now!” Ron yelled and everything went pear-shaped.

He jumped towards Hemera, landing on her roughly while casting a shield charm on her. He bumped Carrington on his way down, throwing her backward while she was trying to cast the charm that would blow the flat to hell.

He felt the flames for a brief moment before he was doused in cold water. Ron stayed down, pinning Hemera while trying to shield her as best as he could.

Maybe seconds later, he pushed up from her very fit body below him and saw Jones leaning her head back onto the ground, groaning. “Don’t do that again, Weasley. That bloody well hurt.” Hemera clutched her ribs and moaned again. “Aurora’s gonna be bent, having a man on top of me.”

Ron choked on his chortle. “Hardly. She might snog me for saving your life.” He rolled off of her to survey the damage and felt the dragon fall on his body.

Harry and Seamus Wellington were over the two men in the corner, in front of the charred couch. Mallory was face up, with his eyes glazed over and so was Archer, with a huge scorch mark on his chest. Their robes were incinerated and Brumby was clearing the air of the rancid smell.

“Fuck,” he growled and went over to them. “Harry?”

“The four of us were shielded from her blast,” Harry choked out. “Daniel, he broke formation to try and save Mallory. He,” Harry wiped his face roughly before speaking up again, his voice broken. “He told me in the hallway that George was his best friend and he had to save him.” Ron saw tears falling down his face. “He broke formation to save his best friend who was probably dead.”

“It’s shite,” Seamus spoke up, “that they both died, but that would be how they’d have wanted it.”

Robards Patronus popped into the flat. “Weasley, Potter! Report!”

They looked at one another before speaking. “You’re needed on site, sir. 21 Diagon Alley, flat number 33. Shafiq is downstairs, along with Smythe.”

“How bad?” The gruff voice on the other end demanded.

“Jones is alive, but we have Aurors down.”

“On my way.” The Patronus disappeared.

“Sir, there are people in the building.” Edwards looked outside the doorway and pulled his head back in. “And they’re yelling what for.”

“Call the Obliviators and see if there were any Muggles who were present. The rest in the building can get told off until there’s a statement released.” Brumby stepped out first, followed by Edwards.” Harry pulled his wand and closed the door, sealing it along the front the front of the flat.

“Robards will have our hide for this, you know.” Harry pulled the young men’s cloaks over their faces.

Hemera coughed and tried to hide the sputum of blood in her hand. “Nonsense, Potter.” No one was acknowledging the third set of remains, spread awkwardly near the windows and her head hanging at an impossible angle. “It was a hostage rescue and you rescued one. Me. Unfortunately, the kidnapper died along with the other hostage.”

“So Mallory - “ Ron asked first.

“I didn’t realize she already had him under Imperio before we came into class. When you turned your back to them, she charmed me into silence. Mallory blasted Harry,” Hemera took a huge gulp of air,” and threatened to kill you while your back was turned to the rest of the room if they didn’t stay their wands. So when you turned back, Mallory had his wand pointed at you and she’d roped us together. The last thing I saw before we disapparated was that Mallory blasted you off your feet.”

She put her head back down on the ground and Ron saw tears leaking from her eyes, running down her ashen skin. “I didn’t know if either one of you gits were alive. I only had to rely on the plan and hope you’d told others of it. I had to trust someone would come to the rescue when I used the emergency taboo.” She threw her hands across her face and Ron looked away, unaccustomed to dealing with the witch before him, quietly sobbing.

“We did, Robards and Williamson both. You taught us to always have contingency plans in place if we were going into a trap.”

“Potter, open the door,” Robards' voice boomed through the wall. Harry pulled his wand and released the locking charm on the door. Gawain stepped into the mess and closed his eyes for a moment, whispering whatever he said when confronted with the worst. “Three juniors? Merlin’s bollocks, Kingsley’s gonna sack me for this.”

“Ron, help me up.” He shifted to help Hemera sit up. He didn’t look at her face since it was covered in soot and bleeding cuts and smudged eye makeup. “And he’s not going to sack you, you bear. But he might be beastly towards me for this.”

Harry moved to help Hemera into a seat near the other window, pointedly ignoring the remains behind her chair. “But I’ll talk about that mess at St. Mungo’s.” Her breathing was shallow and her shirt was shredded and covered in blood.

“I’ve already sent for the Auror Healer. They should be here any minute. Once they check you out, we’ll send you via Portkey to St. Mungo’s. We’ll debrief there.”

Robards interrupted. “Once the others are gone, you’re in charge of the scene until MLS arrives with the Solicitor. We have to keep this quiet until Kingsley says something - “

“Sir, the Healer is here, along with Solicitor Cutcliffe.”

Robards looked like he was cornered against a firecrab. “Bugger. Potter, get Jones to St. Mungo’s. Now. Weasley, you’re here with me. The rest of you, keep quiet until you’re asked a direct question.”

“Sir,” Harry responded immediately and pulled a cushion from the couch and turned it into a portkey. They disappeared seconds later, right before Solicitor Cutcliffe, assistant Director of MLS walked in. “I was informed of a hostage situation and when I arrived, the building was secure, which was good, but the cadet in the stairwell said I couldn’t come up until I proved who I was. Whatever rubbish you’re teaching, Robards, that needs to change immediately.”

“It’s standard procedure, considering the situation.” Cutcliffe ignored Robards’ explanation and looked around the room and saw the carnage. “Explain this, now.” His voice commanded a response.

“Weasley, you were on site. Inform the Solicitor what happened.”

Each of the remaining men took a seat and Ron recounted everything. During such, members of MLS came in, inquiring if they could start cleaning the flat. Cutcliffe waved them away and said they could return in an hour, once he had statements from the Aurors.

Once Ron finished, he listened to the other juniors in the room. Cutcliffe wrung them all out. “So you say that Jones and Potter are at St. Mungo’s, getting checked out?”

“I sent them when Jones was looking wretched. She was the worst injured, and Potter seemed to be, too.”

Ron’s head swiveled fast towards the Director. “Sir?”

“You were too busy checking Jones.”

Ron stood up and went to the door. “If the Solicitor has no further questions, I’m going to St. Mungo’s.” Ron left before he could get an answer. He stepped outside the flat and went to the end of the hallway and disapparated, landing in the Auror reception area.

Ron checked all his fingers and toes, and also his eyebrows. Since he seemed to be in one piece, he made his way to the window. “Excuse me, but Aurors Jones and Potter came in about an hour ago.”

“Auror Weasley,” the receptionist smiled at him like an old friend. “They’re still back there. I’m sure the healers will be out shortly.”

“Thanks.” Ron went to the small waiting room across the hallway, cataloging what he needed to do. He had to get ahold of Ginny but he knew she was off in Holyhead with the team. If he pulled her away from practice for nothing more than a singed eyebrow, she’d blame him for everything that went wrong that day.”

Ron turned back to the receptionist. “Excuse me, ma’am, but do you have a fireplace. I need to make an urgent firecall.”

“Last room on the left. It’s a public fireplace so you can’t keep it open too long.”

“If anyone comes looking for me, I’ll be back in a little while.” Ron left, knowing he’d intrude on the Headmistress, but understood this was a necessary duty.

He made it into the open room and found it empty, as expected. He reached inside the ceramic cistern and pulled a large handful of powder out and threw it into the fire. The flames turned green and he stuck his head inside of the fireplace. “Hogwarts, Headmaster’s Fireplace.”

He waited and saw the room open up in front of him. “Headmistress McGonagall. Headmistress,” he yelled.

“Mr. Weasley, why are you calling so early in the morning?”

“I need to speak with Professor Sinestra immediately. It’s regarding Auror Jones.”

Ron watched the Headmistress motion her wand in a complex form, mumbling under her breath for the incantation. Another flash of her wand and her cat popped into existence. “Professor Sinistra, please apparate to my office immediately.”

“So that’s how you do it?”

“Hush, Mr. Weasley. You didn’t see that.”

“Yes, Headmistress.” Ron waited painful seconds, making his knees ache, before the slim Professor land inside of the office. “You sent for me, Headmistress?”

Professor McGonagall wove her wand in the complex incantation again, securing the school once more. “Mr. Weasley firecalled and urgently needs to speak with you.”

The quiet witch turned and knelt before the fire. “I apologize for this but you’re needed at St. Mungo’s. Hemera’s been hurt.”

Professor Sinistra turned back to McGonagall and saw her nodding. “Leave approved. I’ll cover your classes the next couple of days. Owl me to let me know when you are returning.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Ron pulled his head out of the flames and scooted out of the way before Aurora stepped out of the fireplace, looking slightly disheveled and worry-filled. “Thank you for calling, Auror Weasley.” She smiled before the smile melted off of her face. “How bad is she hurt?”

“I dunno but we’ll go find out now.”

Ron led the way towards the receptionist window. “Excuse me, but have the healers come out of Aurors Potter and Jones yet?”

“They did and will be back in a tic.”

Ron took the professor across the hallway to the painful plastic chairs. He was aching from being blasted off his feet but he had not thought of Harry or him being injured. So many times they’d been here and so many times, scraping from permanent injury by Luck or happenstance or maybe some divine protection he had no clue about.

“What happened? She’s been quiet last few weeks, working too much, but when she’d talk, it wasn’t about work. It’s almost like she’s been hiding secrets from me.”

Ron leaned forward and felt his breath hitch. He had to tell her, regardless of whether she slapped the shit out of him. “She was protecting you. Someone in the Auror corps was trying to blackmail her, and you. It failed but she found out who it was and they kidnapped her. She’s been roughed up quite a bit but she was sitting up when she was brought in.”

“Blackmailing her? Her integrity is second to none.”

“I know and that’s why it failed.”

“Was there anyone else hurt?”

Ron put his head down, nodding before he could stifle the flood of emotions overflowing his emotional tea kettle. He couldn’t talk but he wept, silently, at the three juniors he taught.


	13. Mission Green

* * *

“Auror Weasley? Professor Sinistra?”

The two looked up and saw a Healer, in bright green robes, standing in the doorway. “They’re ready for you.”

The two stood, looking most dissimilar, following the Healer back into the emergency ward. They passed through the doors and heard them close behind them. “Now that we’re secured, Auror Potter will be in for a day or two, depending on how he responds to treatment as well as his recovery once we send him home. He has a nasty burn on his arm and a puncture wound to his hip, probably from landing on his wand. We’ll keep him for observation and on blood replenishing potions and a nerve regenerating potion, and then send him home for more. He’s on light duty for the next fortnight, at least.

“Auror Jones will be in longer since she’s in worse shape, with numerous magical injuries, a concussion, dislocated scapula and shattered clavicle. The shoulder injury appears to have happened when Auror Weasley fell on her, protecting her from incineration. She escaped any burns which are a blessing.”

Ron looked at the diminutive professor next to him and pulled a face, in lieu of an apology for hurting Auror Jones.

“She’s alive, thanks to you, even if you hurt her. I don’t think she’ll complain too much, overall.”

“We’re talking about Hemera, right? Dark skinned, formidable witch, about this tall,” He lifted his hand to his chin and saw her smirking, “and one to complain about anything and everything.”

“She only complains about work, while at work. When she comes home,” Ron saw her looking down at her slippers, “she leaves work at the front door of our flat.” She looked up and Ron saw a small smile on her face. “She’ll complain about being confined to the bed for a day or a fortnight and being off duty for some time but she might also thank you for saving her skin.”

“Anyone would have done that, considering the situation.” Ron felt his ears burning but ignored them.

“And what was that, Auror Weasley?”

They arrived at the first door, with the name Potter on it. “I think she’d be better off explaining it to you. It was something that you should hear from her, not me.”

Ron ducked into Harry’s room while stomping down the small pang of cowardice in explaining what started the mess with Hemera. Ron glanced over towards the far wall and saw Harry propped up in the bed, his leg immobilized along with his left arm. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything about being hurt, you git?” Ron punched him in his right arm, softer than he really wanted.

“I was worried about you and Jones, you idiot. And then seeing Mallory and Archer, both dead, well, it gave me a flashback to the night in the Great Hall and seeing Remus and Tonks laid out on the floor. I dunno what happened but something broke and there for a moment, I quit giving a shit about everything and everyone – all except you.”

Ron stood quietly for a moment, letting the moment settle between them without comment. “Look, Harry, you know you’re my best mate and all, but you’re married to my sister and – “

Harry gave him a dirty look and a rude gesture.

“Then how the bloody hell did you get hurt? The Healer said you had a nasty burn on your arm and your wand impaled your hip.”

“It wasn’t my hip,” Harry muttered under his breath. He looked up and saw Ron looking boggled. “All right, it was my arse. The blast knocked me backward and I tried to brace myself and my wand was in my hand and I fell on my wand. It put a hole in my arse, through to the front.” Harry moved the blankets awkwardly and showed Ron the gauze covering on his hip. “It’s bloody lucky I didn’t get my wand shoved up my arse.”

“I know I’ve told you that you have it up there, but I never meant for you to try and actually do it while we’re out on a mission,” Ron cheeked back.

Harry told him what he could do for himself in return. Ron laughed before settling into the chair.

“How’s Hemera?” Harry shoved his glasses up his face onto his nose.

“She’ll live, from what the Healer said, but will be on medical leave a while. I think I broke her shoulder badly when I fell on her, trying to keep her from being burned alive. The only reason we’re alive is ‘cause you got hurt protecting us. Merlin, you could have died while trying to keep us alive.

“Yeah,” Harry replied. The men sat quietly a moment, deep in thought.

“Harry, how did we miss that one of the juniors was completely mad?”

“We didn’t. We weren’t responsible for the admissions into the Auror program. We’re only responsible for what we do, not what others do. Well, we weren’t. We are now, being Seniors.”

“But still. How was it that we didn’t know Carrington was shagging so many in the department and blackmailing Cavendish?”

“That’s the nature of blackmail – that it stays hidden and secret. You think if we’d known that Cavendish was being blackmailed we’d have been able to prevent this?”

“I dunno but it sure seems like it.”

The door banged open and Director Robards stood in the doorway. Standing behind him was Professor Sinistra, pushing Auror Jones in an old-fashioned wheelchair. “We need to talk, privately.”

Ron stood up and Director Robards prompted Professor Sinistra to sit. He pushed Auror Jones next to Harry’s bed and gave a look towards the gathering. “The Minister will be here shortly and I want to give everyone a head’s up first. Three died on the mission, all juniors. The Auror Corps was planning on promoting 4 from this class because we needed the two of you,” he motioned towards Ron and Harry, “to take on different roles. Now, because of this mess on Diagon Alley, we have four who were not the best.”

“They are sir if they have competent leadership like you have with us.”

“Regardless, there will be an inquiry with the Wizengamot. We’ll have to explain why seven juniors were on a training mission in Diagon Alley and three died, along with a Senior severely injured, and Auror Potter. Shit, we took cadets out with us on a bloody mission. We can’t hide the facts and we can’t shy away from what happened, either.”

“Nor will we, sir. We’ll explain the facts of the case and also debrief so this doesn’t ever happen again.”

“Professor, I asked you in here so you can hear from Hemera how this came about. I hope you realize this is privileged information, only divulging to the Wizengamot.” Robards looked at his Senior and saw her nodding her head. “It won’t be easy to hear, but you need to know it. The papers will try to drag you into it and we don’t want you blindsided or caught off-guard with what is going to come out.”

Ron stood next to Harry’s bed and kept a hand on his shoulder. Harry leaned back into the bed, never moving enough to dislodge his hand.

“It started back in the early fall while all of us were on the Brown case. You,” she pointed to Director Robards, “you gave me a rare night off, especially since these gits were out chasing leads. I think that was – “

“I remember that night all too well,” Robards growled over her explanation.

“And you, my dear, were giving an exam at Hogwarts so we couldn’t have a night home.”

“It was the first exam of the term and I couldn’t change it. You know how much I regret that.” Hemera looked at her partner and reached for her hand. “So instead of going back to our flat and sleeping in a cold bed, I went out, to that pub in Blackpool that we both love going to.”

Aurora kept quiet, listening intently.

“I was at the bar, drinking some of their house ale, and this bint came up and started hitting on me. It’s happened enough, as you know.” She looked at Aurora and saw her nodding. “So I tried to ignore her but she was insistent. Normally I can ignore people like that, the ones hitting on me. For some reason that night, I wasn’t interested in ignoring her. Something about her caught my eye and I can’t explain it. But I screwed up a little,” Hemera turned away and wiped her face, “and I said sod it and snogged her, right there at the bar, in front of others. Naturally, the barkeep told me to take it outside so I did.”

“I’d thought I’d mortify her enough in front of everyone that she’d knock it off. But instead, she followed me outside of the pub and proceeded to snog me further.” Hemera dropped her face to her lap after pulling her hand away from Aurora. “Not five seconds later, she was trying to feel me up and that’s when I realized I was about to throw you over the side. I said to myself, ‘fuck that!’ and pulled my wand. She thought I was about to take her with me for a hook-up but instead, I banished most of her clothes, down to her underclothes, and left her knickers stuck to the brick wall of the pub. I left.

“I went home and owled Kingsley informing him of what happened, as required, but it was more me sobbing like a toddler over what had occurred.”

Hemera turned and saw Aurora looking stoic, refusing to look at the witch sitting next to her. “So that’s why when I saw you the next night that you were so quiet but also generous,” she said without elaborating. “You were feeling guilty for snogging another woman.”

“I have no excuse for what I’ve done,” Hemera kept her eyes on her lap. “And if you want to throw me over the side, it’s the least I deserve after betraying you and your trust.”

“Hemera,” Harry interrupted, “did you watch your drink the entire time that Alexis was hitting on you?”

Ron pulled a small vial out of his pocket. Under the cork was a magenta fluid, nearly empty, but enough in there to show that it was not a pepper-up potion. “This was on the ground next to you, in the flat. I pocketed it since it looks like a Wheezes love potion.”

“Look, we know you,” Harry started.

“And trust you with our lives.” Ron finished the sentence.

Harry and Ron looked at Robards after smirking at them acting like twins. “You wouldn’t intentionally throw her over the side, not as barmy as you are over her. You’ve been ass over tits for the Professor since our first year in the Aurors.”

“And if what you said is accurate and true,” Ron started.

“It is. I told Kingsley everything when I saw him later that night at my flat.”

“Then she might have used a love potion on you to get you compromised. I’ve been dosed,” Ron added.

“He was such a tosser on a love potion, especially when it was made by – “

“Now Harry, don’t mention her. I don’t want to think about her or what she tried to do to you and got me.”

“Or what happened afterward,” Harry added. Ron winced in remembering too.

“That does make sense,” Gawain added. “We have her on record compromising Cavendish from Mallory’s files. That might be how she did it. Maybe she thought that since the potion didn’t work on you, either because you are a woman or that she’d not had it long enough to get really potent,”

“Maybe she tried it on him since it didn’t work perfectly on you, back in the fall.”

“You did say that you knew that Cavendish was compromised. Maybe that was – “

The three men turned back towards the two witches sitting close to one another and all conversation stopped. “Maybe we should step out of the room for a few,” Gawain muttered before Harry turned his head from the other two.

“Ah, don’t bother. I’m used to it from this git and his wife.”

“Laugh it up, you specky git. I’ve seen you enough times – “

“Gentlemen,” Robards growled. “Weasley, take that to your brother and see if it’s his product. If it is, take it to the Ministry and have our Master Potioneer see how long it’s been fermenting. Then bring your arse back here.” Robards glanced to his right and saw that the two ladies were sitting together, with Aurora laying her head in Hemera’s lap. The other two turned back and watched Hemera combing her fingers through her partner’s hair.

“We have so much to talk about, at home, away from you sods.” Hemera saw the three of them nodding in understanding.

“Weasley, you have first shift guarding Hemera.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Granger can interview her for a few minutes but I don’t want an official debriefing until she’s released from the hospital. Understand?” Ron nodded in affirmation.

“And you, Potter – “ Robards looked back towards Harry and saw him lifting the sheet on the bedclothes, demonstrating that he was in no shape to go out of the hospital, “Well fuck. I guess I have shite duty by myself.”

“You know, sir,” Harry started up, “I can keep duty if they had us in the same room.”

“Potter, I’m not doing it for you. Your wife will probably be storming in her shortly ready to shove her wand up - “

“Speak of the devil and there she is,” Ron grumped when he saw Ginny out in the hallway. “I’ll tend to my sister so she doesn’t take this git’s bollocks for earrings.” Ron left the rest in the room and slid out of the sealed door, locking it behind him.

“Why in Merlin’s fucking name is my husband in a sodding hospital bed again? Please tell me what the hell is going on and why I got a bleeding firecall from that tosser Williamson from the Ministry and not my brother or his supervisor.”

“Enough,” Ron exploded before taking her into the empty room next door and locking it behind him. He cast a muffling charm on the door just to make sure. “Now, I will explain.”

“Why is my damn husband in a bleeding hospital bed again?”

“Senior Jones was kidnapped. Harry was stunned but he’ll be fine. We had to go capture our blackmailer and try to rescue Jones. Harry got hurt worse but we saved Hemera.”

Ginny stood in front of her brother, trying to crane her neck to see his face. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Ron turned away and rubbed his face, trying to scrub away the tears that finally bubbled to the surface.

“It’s my bloody fault.”

“What is?” Ginny was rooted to the floor. “What was your fault?”

“It was my idea, to use Harry for bait, and use promotions to smoke out our traitor.”

“What are you on about?”

Ron turned and Ginny rushed up to him and hugged him tight around the middle. “Tell me,” she commanded.

“I got them killed,” he mumbled.

“You what?” she yelled.

Ron felt the pressure in his chest burst and the tears started to fall. He wept while telling Ginny everything that happened, including Harry getting hurt trying to keep him from getting killed while getting hurt.

“It was my bloody idea and it got two blokes killed. Two!” He exploded. Ginny let go and he sunk to his knees, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Three in total out of the seven and now the rest are getting moved up to Auror. I’m facing an inquiry at the very least and might lose my bloody badge because of my bad idea.”

“No, you won’t. Harry needs you, and what you just told me says that the department will need you even more, now that you’ll have to mentor more Aurors.”

Ron shoved Ginny over and had his wand facing the doorway before she could even register what was happening. Hermione was standing inside the doorway, having apparated into the room. He kept Ginny behind him while she stood quietly, her wand pointed downward and away from him.

“What was the last thing I told you over breakfast this morning before you went to work?”

Hermione blushed and smiled. It was predatory. “We didn’t breakfast together unless you are referring to morning sex as breakfast. But you told me that I am amazing. Then I went to get a shower and you were asleep when I came out of the bathroom.”

Ron dropped his wand and Hermione came across the room to him. She gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek and watched her depart while holding her husband. “I came as quick as I could. Robards told me what happened. I am so sorry.”

Ron wrapped his arms around his wife and shuddered.

“All I could think about was saving Hemera and how barmy you’d be if I got hurt. Sod all that those kids got killed, all because some entitled wanna be Pureblood got her knickers in a twist because she had to work for the promotion.”

“Did you save her, Hemera that is?”

“Yeah, but she’s pretty busted up. Bloody strumpet worked her over but then I went to fall on her, to protect her and keep her from getting killed and tore her shoulder up. She’s probably going to be on desk duty for months because I didn’t know how to fall on her.”

“No one’s mad at you, Ron. And I doubt they are going to blame you for the actions of someone completely mental.”

“It was my idea, Hermione. I took those fucking kids in there. I lead them into it and got them killed.”

“Ron, stop. You’re going to give yourself a stroke if you keep blaming yourself for their actions.”

“But I was their Senior on the hop. It was my mission and I got them blown to hell.”

“They were junior Aurors. They knew the risk. You said that when you told me you were going to be one, all these years ago.”

“Hermione, they were kids!” He crumbled further. “Hell, two of them barely needed to shave! And the other one, even if she was completely mental, she’d have made an excellent Auror, even if she was homicidal and better suited as a Hit Wizard.”

“Ron, they knew the risks when they entered the program. You can’t protect them, not when you’re an Auror.”

“But I –“

“You saved Hemera, right?”

“I did, even if I hurt her.”

“And I’m sure she’ll thank you for it when she’s off the pain potions.”

“But Hermione, she lied, at least to us. She did take a bite of forbidden fruit, even if it possibly under a love potion. She was compromised and we weren’t told. Fuck, she made a mistake and left the fuckstrumpet in her skin, stuck to a pub wall, just to escape.”

“Ron, they’ll work it out but she might be in a spot of bother with the department for that, even if it’s an informal reprimand.”

“Well, Harry thinks that Carrington dosed her with a love potion to compromise her. I’d trust him over anyone else.” Ron pulled the vial from his pocket and handed it to Hermione. She went quiet. “Is this one of your products?”

“It’s possible. I’m supposed to run it by George before the Auror Master Potioneer verifies it.”

“I told him ages ago that there needs to be a way to limit sales of it. Stuff’s dangerous.”

“It’s for a laugh, Hermione.”

“Normally, but it nearly killed you, indirectly.”

“Fair point.”

“Ron? Are you sorted?”

“For now, I reckon so. But I might be on shite duty with Robards.”

“Shite duty?” The words came out with a particular inflection, betraying her upper-class upbringing.

“Yeah. I might have to go with Robards to notify next of kin. You know I hate that. Last time I had to do it I got the fire slapped out of me.”

Hermione hugged him tight again, relishing the comfort she afforded when he wanted to curl up on the couch with a bottle of Firewhiskey and embrace oblivion for a few hours. But he learned from Kingsley, like Harry did, about healthy coping with the impossible stress of his job.

“How can I help?”

Ron waited until she released him from the hug and saw the concern on her face. “You can run a vial by George and see if it's ours before logging it as evidence in the case.”

“Anything else?”

He looked and saw Robards in the hallway. “Wait up for me to come home tonight.”

“I will. I promise.”

Ron smiled, full of grief. “And you always keep your promises,” he said before kissing her once again and heading to the door. “I’ll be back once we’ve done our duty.”

“Do you want me to stay here until you return?”

Ron opened the door and saw Robards standing there. “Weasley, you coming?”

He turned and saw Hermione with her second wand out, the one when she meant business. “Please.”

“Weasley?”

“Hermione is staying until I return.”

“Granger, you don’t – “

“Yes, I do. My husband asked me to.”

“But you’re not an Auror.”

“But I’m the next best thing – someone you can trust, someone who gives a fuck.”

Ron choked on his laugh and saw Robards grinning. “You’re right, Granger.”

Hermione followed the men out of the room and went back next door, to keep a quiet watch on Harry and Hemera, along with Professor Sinistra. Ron, along with Gawain Robards, never looked back, only forward.

She stepped inside the next room to see both Aurors asleep, with Professor Sinistra napping next to her partner. Hermione pulled up a chair near the door, putting a charm on the portal to the hallway before pulling out a stack of parchment from her satchel and went to work documenting the case from the interviews earlier.

* * *

The Aurors landed with a thud in a grotty alley. The sun was overhead but a cold breeze was flapping his robes. “Where are we?” Ron asked.

Robards stowed his wand and Ron followed suit before they stepped out of the alleyway out onto the pavement. “Come on,” he growled and took off at a fast clip. Ron easily kept up, following the grizzled Auror and his pronounced limp.

They walked onward, past shops and pubs, which were busy this time of the day. “Just a little further,” Robards growled and kept limping. “We’re almost there.”

They turned a corner and went down a dead-end street, full of cottages that would fit into any middle-class neighborhood in Britain. “He lives here?”

“Yeah, with his Mum. She’s a Muggleborn. His Dad was a wizard and died during the coup in the Ministry. He left her well off enough, even if she had to hide for the year with George and two younger siblings, a brother and sister. If I recall, in his file, it said they stayed with Mr. Mallory’s parents over on the coast.”

“Shite.”

“Come on,” he walked the few more steps to the residence and took one step onto the walkway to the front door. Ron felt the frisson of magic wash over him to the residence. “Muggle repelling charm?”

“Only thing I can think of. Maybe it had more when George was alive.”

They walked up to the door and knocked. Seconds ticked by and Ron rubbed his hands on his trousers, not realizing they were sooty and he smelled of burnt upholstery and artificial fibers.

The door cracked open an inch and an older witch wearing glasses peeked through. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Mrs. Mallory? We’re from the Auror Department.”

She cracked open the door a smidge wider. “Where’s George? Where’s my son?”

“Mrs. Mallory, may we come in?”

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

“Mrs. Mallory,” Ron stepped up, looking like he stepped out of a bonfire, “may we come in?”

“You’re that Wizard, the one in the papers so often. George talked about you a bit.” She opened the door wider and allowed the two men in.

They stepped into the cottage and followed her to a small sitting room. Many wizarding photographs of George Mallory dotted the room, from his days at Hogwarts as a small lad to photos from his various trips hiking.

“Mrs. Mallory – “ Robards started.

“It’s about George,” Ron cut across his director. Ron saw Robards chewing his lip and kept plowing along. “There was a mission today and George – “ Ron stopped for a moment, trying to regain his composure, “and the mission went sideways immediately and George was hurt.”

“My boy,” she whispered before Ron powered ahead.

“Daniel Archer, so I’m told – “

“Daniel was his best friend and had been since they were in primary. They were closer than brothers and Daniel spent many a night here, crashed on a couch after a training session for the Aurors. They planned to get a flat in London once they made Auror.”

Ron choked up and couldn’t dislodge the boulder in his throat and felt his emotional mug shatter instantly. He wiped away the first tears, swallowing the rest.

“What Auror Weasley has been trying to say is that your son, along with Daniel Archer, died earlier today on a training mission.”

Ron rushed out of his chair and caught the older witch in his arms, feeling her grasping onto his grotty jumper and feeling the wail explode from her. Ron ignored the rest of the explanation from Robards, focusing on the older witch in his arms and trying desperately to keep her together and not collapse. His knees buckled and his back whined from the pain but he refused to slide further, giving her comfort and solace.

“Sir, can you see if there is something to make tea with, with maybe a sniffer of brandy?” He didn’t hide the fountain of tears falling down his face or the scratchiness of his voice.

“I’ll owl the Auror liaison to help her. I know she has two still at Hogwarts. Minerva will need to be informed.” Robards left the sitting room with Ron kneeling on the ground, holding Mrs. Mallory in his arms.

Ron held her until the tears stopped flowing and the wails died away. The first two pots of tea Robards brought from the kitchen were cold before she tore her face away from his sooty jumper.

“My children,” she started and stopped. “I – “

“The Headmistress has been informed. Our office is making the arrangements for the children to come home for as long as you need. We’ll also assist you as much as you want regarding your son.”

“I’m – I don’t know what to do.” Ron felt his heart breaking.

“Mrs. Mallory,” Ron started, sniffing away the tears that were left, “Hug your other children and don’t let them out of your sight until you’re ready.” Ron turned towards Gawain, who had been sitting in a rocking chair in the room. “Would you owl my Mum and have her come ‘round tomorrow, about 10 or so. I think Mrs. Mallory could use some help and support right now.”

“I will once we get back to the Ministry.” Robards went to stand from the rocking chair.

“You go on ahead, sir. I’ll stay a little while longer here with Mrs. Mallory until she doesn’t need me.”

“You still have to pull a shift at the Hospital with Aurors Potter and Jones.”

“I will but my wife can handle it until I return. Mrs. Mallory needs me more at the moment.”

“Auror Weasley,” Mrs. Mallory’s voice sounded like a stepped on kneazle, “I think I can manage once I call my sister. She lives on the other side of town.”

“Is she a witch, too?”

“She is. But I’ll appreciate the help, from your Mum and the Ministry regarding George.”

“Will you owl her?”

“No. I have a fireplace in the den that’s hooked up to the Floo network. I can call her.”

Robards stood up and handed over a business card. “You’ll be hearing from the Ministry Liaison before the end of the day and we’ll have you speak with a Mind Healer if you want that too.”

They went to the doorway, ready to leave.

“Auror – “

“Robards, Mrs. Mallory.”

“Auror Robards, how did they die?”

“Like heroes, Mrs. Mallory. Daniel was trying to save George’s life.”

She shed a couple more tears. “They’d have wanted it that way. Daniel would have been bereft if he lived and hadn’t saved George, or vice-versa.”

“I understand that completely,” Ron muttered before Robards opened the door. “Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs. Mallory?”

“If I think of it, I’ll let you know.”

“Please do,” Robards added before they walked away from another mother who lost their child.

The sun was considerably further along the horizon, almost ready to disappear on the day. They started walking up the street to the apparition point and saw cars passing by. “You ever have had someone like that, Director?”

“Yeah, once. He was an Auror when I was much younger. He died on a mission.” Robards stopped at the roundabout, looking both ways at the passing autos. “It’s been 50 years and not a day goes by, doing this bloody job that I don’t miss his sorry arse.”

“Sorry for bringing it up, sir.”

“Don’t be. That’s why I have you working with Potter so much. I know how close two Aurors get when they are the best of friends. You sorry sods might burn my ass from time to time, but you’re the best bloody team I’ve got.”

Robards turned and made Ron back up two steps. “And you keep that in your cloak and don’t say a bloody word of that to anyone. You two assholes are Aurors and I can’t show favorites to keep problems down but I’ll be fucked if you don’t pull off some bloody miracles from time to time. Sorted, Weasley?”

Ron smirked. “Ta muchly.”

They made it back to the alley and Disapparated back to London.

 


	14. Suspect sighted

* * *

Ron stepped through the partition into St. Mungo’s and walked quietly towards the lifts. He could have gone to a pub and gotten pissed like he wanted, but Hermione would rip his bollocks if he showed up for duty tonight pissed. Then again, she’d also understand, even while ripping him a new one. No, Harry and Hemera needed him tonight, even if they didn’t really expect anything to happen. Blown to hell already happened today but spending the night in the hospital with the two of them, rather than at home, shagging his wife seven ways to Saturday did nothing for his cocked up mood.

But then he also needed the time to sort out how everything was blown to hell on the mission – and also write up his reports for the Wizengamot debriefing and also shielding Hemera as much as possible for fucking up months ago. Did she deserve it, when she accidentally facilitated the problem? Fuck if he knew.

The doors to the lift opened and he stepped in, watching the doors close before a pasty pale hand shove in the closing doors. Draco Malfoy stepped in, huffing and puffing in his orange apprentice Potioneer robes, carrying a tray of corked vials.

“Shit. Just the last fucking person I want to see.” Ron punched the lift button to close it. Any extra time with the ferret would be too much, especially today.

“It’s nice to see you too, Weazlebee. Been rolling in a campfire again, by the looks of your robes? Or are you so piss poor that you have to resort to hand-me-overs from the back of a charity shop?”

“Go fuck yourself, Malfoy.” Ron punched the 4 button and tried to ignore the sod in the lift with him.

“No thanks.” The lift stopped and the doors refused to open. “Who pissed in your porridge, Weasley?”

“Like you give a shit, Malfoy.” Ron kept his eyes forward, to keep from punching Malfoy in the face and breaking his nose again.

“I actually don’t but since I work here and you’re in the bloody lift with me, I thought I’d ask.” Malfoy punched the button and the lift moved again. “I’d almost thought you’d have been civil now, being an Auror and the poster child of the Ministry. Guess the Weasel will never change his antics.”

Ron punched the stop button again. “You really want to know, Malfoy? You’re not just being a wankstain?”

“I asked because I was curious, Weasley. If your head is so far up your ass, - “

“People died today because of my decision, alright? Glad you asked now? Now piss off.” Ron punched the button again and the lift was moving.

“That’s fucked up, Weasley.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“So why are you here? Potter get hurt?”

“Yeah, he did. So did another Auror. Harry saved my life.” The lift doors opened and a medi-witch stepped in with her clipboard and wand tucked behind her ear. She was busy scanning her parchment orders to pay any mind to the two men in the back of the lift.

“That’s terrible,” Malfoy whispered and Ron nodded once.

The lift opened and the medi-witch stepped out first, followed by Malfoy. “Look, I am sorry it went sideways today. Really.”

Ron stood there looking at Malfoy as the lift doors closed before moving up 2 more floors to where he needed to be. He stepped out and leaned back against the white tiled wall, ruminating about Malfoy being civil to him. “Maybe it’s a full moon,” Ron cheeked to himself before making his way back to Harry’s room, “or maybe Ginny rattled his wits when she punched him.” Moments later, he was slipping into the room and stopping, seeing Hermione’s walnut wand pointed at his face. “The smell of cooked liver makes you vomit.”

She lowered her wand and Ron looked across the room. Harry was asleep in his bed along with Hemera in another bed on the other side of the room. Aurora was awake next to her, with a magazine open on her lap.

“Harry insisted so the staff expanded the room so they could both be in here. Professor Sinistra agreed to it.” Professor Sinistra looked up from her magazine, smiled, and went back to it. “No one has come by and it’s been very quiet. I’m not complaining because I got much done.”

Ron dropped his satchel down, hearing it thud in the quiet room. “Robards said I had to stay on for the night, so if you want to head home, go ahead.”

“Ron, you’ve been going since yesterday morning. You need your rest, too. I’ll stay so you can get a kip.”

“There is no one else,” he said quietly. “Besides, I’m so wound up right now I doubt I can sleep. So why don’t you head home and get some sleep? If I’m lucky I’ll get relieved at midnight and come home to fall on you.”

The two shared a long look before Hermione nodded once and started packing her satchel of parchment. “I’ll pick up takeaway so if you do come home tonight, it’s in there for you.” She finished with the last bundle of parchment and kissed him once on the cheek, blushing slightly for being immodest in front of the other witch. “Try to rest tonight if you can.” Hermione squeezed his hand for a moment before leaving the room without a look back.

Aurora slipped from the bed, leaving Hemera still asleep. “Now that you’re back, I think I am going to go back to Hogwarts, at least for the night. It’s been a very long day.” She sighed. “I.. I have to have time to think, too.”

Ron saw the grim look on the professor’s face and recognized it immediately. “Would you like for me to escort you to the fireplace?”

Aurora looked over the sleeping witch in her bed, including glancing at the privacy curtain pulled between the beds. “Where is it?”

“There’s a room next to the waiting room, off the main hall. You have to get the powder from the medi-witch station but it can take you back to Hogwarts.”

Aurora pulled her wand and smiled. A large snake, but with considerably different markings, erupted from her wand. _‘Minerva, would you mind if I used your office fireplace to return to the school tonight? Mr. Weasley is on duty tonight so I can return to my quarters inside the castle and rest.’_ The snake slithered towards the wall and vanished. “I’ll wait until I hear a reply before I leave. Otherwise, I have to go to the Hog’s Head to return and I’d rather not walk alone tonight.”

“Would you like an Auror escort?”

“Not if I can help it. I need some time alone, to think, and drink a bit.” The quiet witch standing next to the bed looked on the occupant in the bed with affection. Ron knew that look well. “She admitted she messed up, but honestly, I can forgive that, because she also fixed it before I knew about it. I’m beastly because she didn’t tell me that it happened.” Ron watched Aurora pull a handkerchief from her sleeve and dab her eyes. “What else hasn’t she told me?” She went silent. “Has Hermione ever hurt you like that, where your trust was rattled and you’re questioning everything?”

Ron looked down and saw the mostly invisible canary scars on his hand. He felt his face and neck flush some, hoping that the Astronomy professor didn’t notice. “Yeah, and it was something completely stupid but I cocked up things with her for months in how I reacted.” He looked up and saw that she was nodding in some recognition. “And it was ‘cause I was jealous and fearful.” He took a deep breath. “I’d not make the same mistake now, at 25 that I did at 16. I have mucked up so much, and cocked up things almost permanently, more than once, over things that she didn’t know bothered me. But somehow, she forgave my jealous arse.”

“So you think I should forgive her, for what happened?”

“If she was dosed, I would, unconditionally. But since it’s been months, it’s hard to know for absolute certainty. But you said it yourself: people hit on her. I mean, she does nothing for me physically, because I’m arse over elbows for Hermione and have been for yonks, but if she’s that attractive to witches that they shove their knickers in her pockets and offer her room keys for the night, resisting those temptations are chronically difficult. Harry knows that problem all too well; Ginny too. They’re the ones who get people shoving room keys and knickers in their pockets, constantly. They get the unwanted attention, from witches who want to bed them, and blokes who want to be them – and vice-versa. As far as forgiving the other for making a mistake, or accepting their contrition, that’s your decision.”

“How’d you handle the one from school? I remember those months when Hermione was sullen, silent, and obviously miserable.”

Ron bit his tongue to keep from mentioning that dying makes things a little more focused, a little less petty towards friends. “Well, I really didn’t, at least for a long time. But then the war happened, things happened during it, and I realized it was all jealous bullshit, on both of our parts. She snogged me, shit happened, and the other rubbish, I eventually realized, was unimportant.”

“You’re not who you were in school, Mr. Weasley.”

“Well, the Aurors helped me grow up and realize what’s important and what’s not. Hermione is important. Petty jealousy isn’t. But then, I’m not you and I’m not the one who is humiliated by these events and injured from them.”

“You seem to have gained some wisdom, Mr. Weasley.”

Ron smiled and levitated the chair over to him and sat down. “I have a remarkably brilliant best friend who taught me to listen more. And she’s right.”

“After what you heard, would you forgive her?”

Ron glanced at the two in their own beds, separated by the screen. Harry was sleeping like the dead, so far gone he wasn’t even snoring. Hemera, he noticed, wasn’t asleep but let her remain as she was. “Yeah, because we’ve all done stupid shit and fucked up things with our partner, whether at work or at home. Having that forgiveness from them, and for them, is how you keep from going completely mental doing this job. I’m sure there have been days when she’s come home and had a terrible mission and can’t talk about it, so she needs you in other ways.”

Aurora kept her features still but nodded.

“And you’re bursting at the seams to talk with them about all the shite you saw on the case and can’t because you’ve not been debriefed yet with the Directors but you otherwise are going to explode if you don’t do _something_ and sometimes, that something is making a bad choice. Hell,” Ron saw Hemera smirk slightly before going stoic again, “I’ve come home many times from a mission, feeling like I could fight everyone wandless, with my bare hands, and instead, because Hermione understands me, and what I need to cope with how mental this job is, gives me everything I want and need.” Ron flushed again and Aurora smiled, slightly. “She’s one of the reasons I am still somewhat sane from doing this fucking job. I can’t tell her all of the grotty details, or how many people have died by my wand, but I can sleep at night, and stay out of the bottle because I have friends and family who help me tremendously.”

“So you’re saying,” she whispered.

“I’m saying talk with Minerva – Headmistress McGonagall,” Ron corrected himself, “and maybe Professor Sprout and some others and have their thoughts. Merlin knows that all of us in the Auror Corps have had our share of problems, but we’re much better off now because of the lessons taught by Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks. Do I think Hemera’s worth it? Well, if this is a one-off, and that’s all that happened,” he knew it was but had to mention the doubt for Aurora Sinistra’s benefit, “then yeah, I do. I’d forgive her. Merlin knows she talks about constantly and makes a bunch of us sick. Then again, way I natter on about Hermione gets some of the guys – Hemera too – throwing their rubbish at me over it.”

An ethereal cat burst into the room and skidded to a halt by the door. “My fireplace is open when you’re ready to return, Aurora. I’ll have a wee dram awaiting you when you arrive, as well. And Mr. Weasley, please look after them tonight. Hemera is precious to all of us at Hogwarts.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said as they watched the cat vanish.

“Now, I will take your leave and return tomorrow. I realize you probably won’t be here but either way,” She reached her hand out to shake his, “Thank you, for everything. I love her and I like her, but I have much to think about and consider before we talk again.” Aurora picked up her bag and put two books into it. “If she wakes later and asks, please tell her.”

Ron watched as Aurora went over to the witch in the bed and kissed her gently once on the forehead and then whispered softly in her ear for a few moments. Ron went to act like he was checking on Harry to ignore what was being said and heard a second, louder kiss from the other side of the dividing curtain before Aurora put her head around the side. “Once again, Thank you, Ron, for saving her life.” He went to the middle and watched the quiet witch depart the room.”

“So you’re staying,” a groggy voice croaked behind him.

“Yeah, I’m on duty until half six, so I was told. Hopefully, someone will relieve me earlier than that.”

“Rubbish to that, Weasley.”

“Yeah, I know. Barking.” He pulled the chair in between the two beds and settled down, pulling the curtain back so he could keep tabs on Harry and Hemera. “And he’ll sleep like the dead for a few more hours, probably. For some reason, he sleeps best in this bloody place.”

“So where’s Hermione? I thought she’d be in here with you, keeping you company. You’ve said she hates that you aren’t home most nights.”

“She went home for the night, ‘cause I asked. She’d have stayed if I’d asked, but I needed some time to sort the shite in my head after the day we had.”

“It’s eating you alive right now, isn’t it?” She moved some and grimaced. Ron stood and pulled a spare pillow from the small table and propped it behind her neck, elevating her some in the sterile bed. “And you’re thinking that some different decision, even if it wasn’t yours to make, would have kept those three alive, even if there would have been problems later.”

“Yeah, I reckon so. Those kids died because of my plan, my decisions.” Ron sat down in the chair, squirming to find some position of comfort on the wooden chair.

“It wasn’t your decision, Weasley. It was mine, and Robards, and that fuckstrumpet. Those kids knew what they were getting into the day they signed their contracts.”

He rubbed his face hard, trying to staunch the flow of emotions boiling over inside his heart. “They were kids, Hemera. She wanted to kill you, me and Harry, and everyone else, because she felt slighted for not being entitled to that coveted promotion. She refused to do the job, expecting to slide into it. Instead, she manipulated people, blackmailed Cavendish, tried to blackmail you and me, and decimated the Auror department – all because she got her knickers in a twist over having to work hard for the promotion.”

“You do realize, don’t you, that she wanted what you and Potter and the other Aurors have, which was walking in, doing what appeared to be the minimum, no hassles, and having the job and being promoted in short order. She presumed that it was just that easy but she hadn’t seen the hazing, the torments you went through, all of the bullshit, along with all of the cocked up things you endured to earn your badge. She saw the rewards and benefits, as well as the perception that you made full Auror entirely too young. She didn’t see all of the grotty assignments you volunteered for, or the missions where you were gone for weeks and months at a time, away from Harry, and Hermione, or how much work you actually put in to earn your badge, and respect, in the department.”

“Did you think Harry and I skated in without earning it?” Ron asked and saw Hemera stifling a yawn. He yawned too and waited for four beats before hearing Harry yawn slightly in his sleep.

“Yes, but they were very special circumstances, for all of you who signed up after that bloody day. Merlin knows, and Kingsley too, that you and Potter did everything humanly possible, and the improbable much of the time, along with Longbottom and Finnegan, to bring the rest of the sods in. It wasn’t your fault at all that the buggers hid so well and that it took all of us 5 very long years to bring the last of them in. You and Potter and Longbottom did it out of duty. Finnegan seems to be the one who actually likes what he does, which is why he has the job he does.”

“You think we had it easy?”

“No. Those first two years were the worst of my career, as far as sleepless nights, running on potions for three-day stints, and the number of casualties.” She reached up, winced, and wiped her face. “I never want to see that again, much less live it.”

“If you offer to obliviate me, I’d take it, even if Hermione would shove her wand up my arse and fry my bollocks from the inside out.” Ron scrubbed his face along with wiping his eyes. “How the hell do you cope with it?”

Hemera smiled, the first time he’d seen one on her face in months. “You do what we’re doing now – talking and not holding back.”

“But you’re a captive audience. It’s not right.”

“Bollocks and bullshit. You think Kingsley and I didn’t sit in the pub, with Tom keeping everyone away, while we talked after a cocked up mission? Of course we did. And so did Kingsley with Robards, and in the early days, with Mad-Eye and all the others who came before.

“There’s a reason Aurors are like family. It’s cause we can’t share all the grotty details with our loved ones, or how fucked up our job is, or how someone died during the mission. Precious few can handle that and stay.” She scowled. “You tell Granger everything after a mission?”

“Fuck no, ‘cause she’d go spare. She’s barmy enough when I’m on a mission for a day, much less a no-contact mission for a fortnight. She worries constantly when I’m on the job. I’m sure that Aurora does the same with you when you’re gone and out on a mission.”

“She’s worse,” Hemera said, “if you can believe it. I never thought it possible, but she is worse than Granger when it comes to worrying about me. And now, ‘cause I fucked up, that might be gone too.”

Ron gave her a look. “You heard what I said.”

“Yeah, but you’re different with Granger, being arse over tits. I’m cynical and realize I probably fucked myself because of that slag Carrington that night. I’ll probably have a howler tomorrow from Aurora throwing me over the side for what I did.”

“She won’t,” Ron replied.

“And you’re naïve. It’s different with witches. Bet you that when you were snogging that other bint – “

“Don’t talk about Lavender. She went through hell and still does daily for what that fucker did to her that night. I won’t have you slag on her. She’s out of bounds and you know it.”

“This isn’t about Brown. This is about you and Granger. As I was saying, it’s different for witches who date and have relationships with witches like me. I’ve dated men and women. Aurora didn’t date anyone before me. Since you’ve been arse over tits for Granger, you’ve probably not realized that dating is different.”

“I’ve not thought about it.”

“Well, for witches like me, who are into wizards and witches, we get slagged on horribly, called everything possible, because we _might_ stray from our partner. We’re held to an even higher standard of impossible expectations, including being told that dating a witch is a phase because we want a wizard when it’s all over.”

“That’s rubbish,” Ron rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward at the moment while discussing Hemera’s private life.

“Then let’s talk the family expectations. Even if we really like witches, there’s the expectation that we settle down with a wizard, start a family, live the quiet domestic life. Dad always knew, but Mum still rails against me, even if I’ve been with Aurora for years now. She still thinks that I’m _incomplete_ because I’m not married and don’t have kids. And then there’s Aurora, who spends her time looking at the stars and isn’t bothered much with dating, especially dating witches, much less wizards. It’s a wonder that we hit it off so well, enough to actually have a romantic relationship.”

“I dunno where you’re going with this.”

Hemera shrunk back down into the bed, wincing. “I let myself be manipulated once and it’s probably cost me my job, the trust of my best friend, the respect of those in the department, and probably my partner – all because I was beastly that no one was there for me.”

“But all of us are there for you, Hemera. I hope you realize that now, that Harry and I have your back. Hell, even Hermione, if push comes to shove. And Kingsley’s your best mate. He’d never throw you over the side for a mistake.”

“I’m not shagging you or Potter or even Granger.” She made a noise that sounded like a stepped on gnome. “The only saving grace I probably have is that I’m a Pureblood. If I were a half-blood I’d probably have been made redundant. I’ll get another chance, if not as much of one as you would since you’re a wizard.”

“I’m also the biggest Pureblood traitor from a Pureblood traitor family in all of Britain. Sure, I have two sets of purple wands, but I’m also a Muggle-lover, from the whispers in the ministry. Not like it’s a bad thing, that I love Hermione, being a Muggleborn. I mean, she’s fucking brilliant,” and thought the other half of the phrase but didn’t say it, “but I’m not immune either.”

“Are you really arguing with me about who has it worse in the Ministry?” Hemera erupted in a barking laugh and immediately winced. “Fuck that hurts. Why’d you have to shatter my shoulder?”

“You win, I reckon. But why the fuck did you snog Carrington? She’s a 3. I saw how Aurora looks at you. You must have been mad.”

“I was. I was feeling pathetic that night and needed her and she wasn’t there. I can’t blame my choices on being dosed, not when my pathetic decisions started the mess.”

“You’re stupid.”

“I was.”

“She’s not going to toss you over the side.”

“That’s what you think. I betrayed her. I snogged someone, not her. You think Granger would leave your bits intact if you did that to her?”

“Yeah. I reckon she has since it’s happened before,” he fought down the defensiveness over his relationship. “I’ve been snogged by many a witch – and two wizards – who thanked me for either saving their life or catching the bastard who killed a relative. And every single time, I tell Hermione about it.” Ron rubbed his neck, realizing he had to help, even if was embarrassed. “And every single stinking time it’s happened, Hermione and I row a bit then shag furiously. Afterward, we have an honest conversation and things are sorted. She’s it for me, no matter who snogs me.”

“You’ve got a really good thing going, Weasley.”

“Yeah, we do. She’s incredible and while it’s not all smooth sailing, it’s pretty fucking fantastic.”

“And I threw it over the side for a piece of ass that tried to kill me.”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “You said you left her in her knickers in the alley behind the pub. You did leave it off at a snog, right?”

She nodded. “I did but I was thinking of taking her back to the flat and shagging her all bloody night.” She sighed. “Do you know how bloody difficult it is to turn down a woman who isn’t too subtle at shoving her tongue down your throat?” She squinted. “Oh right, you had that, with Lavender. But you were young and dumb then too. When you get old, like I am, the people hitting on you are either the ones who want a three-way or the ones with mummy issues or into bondage and shit. It’s rubbish.”

Ron sat, waiting for more.

“Granger taught you well, letting me talk.”

Ron shrugged. “It’s awkward but it’s not like I’m going to sleep tonight and you probably won’t either for a while and you need this, so why not? Besides, it’s helping me think about all the shit that happened today.”

“So what can you do about everything that happened today?” Her voice took on a hard edge.

“Turn in my badge and go hide in a bottle for getting those kids killed. But I won’t, as much as I want to do that. I can’t leave Harry hanging. I can’t abandon you while shit is sideways.”

“So what other options do you have?”

Ron sat quietly, going over everything that had happened, from the moment he woke so many hours ago, until now. “Well, the cadets admitted now go through a screening, so they aren’t barmy. And we have more standards for the kids have to meet to make it to an Auror. It’s not just NEWTS but also other things, like aptitude, and home life. The Aurors meet with a mind-healer every three months and are mandated to do so annually. The department, while still over-budget and under-staffed, runs better now, with fewer problems, because people give a shit about one another. But the question remains, which boggles me, is how Cavendish was compromised? Carrington should never have been able to corrupt him. He’d have known he was dosed, if he was, to be compromised.”

“You forget that Aurors are people, too. A willing shag is hard to turn down. A willing witch offering consequences-free shag is too much temptation for most people.” Hemera pulled her wand from the bedclothes and pointed them at the sheets, sighing immediately.

“And how many shags have you turned down since you got with Aurora?”

“I’ve turned down dozens, if not hundreds, you git. I met her when I was assigned to Hogwarts that first year while protecting the school. I,” she coughed slightly, “I didn’t even have the nerve to ask her out. She asked me in the Spring, before Easter break. But since I met her and we became a couple, I’ve had to turn people down about once a month, sometimes more. A few even had the nerve to proposition me while she was with me.”

“And yet you got your knickers twisted by Carrington. How the hell? She shouldn’t have gotten close enough to compromise you, much less get you away from the bar.”

“I was lonely, alright?” She growled. “I had a moment of weakness and it was bloody nice to be hit on when I needed attention. Between the Firewhiskey in me, those pretty eyes, and what she was saying, I fell for it. And I might lose Aurora for my bloody stupid decision.”

“Nah, but she might give you the cold shoulder and yell at you some.”

“Granger do that to you often, huh?” She grinned. “I can imagine Hermione being a screamer.”

Ron flushed bright red, thinking of her differently than what Hemera was saying. “Yeah, she is. When she gets wound up, she can be heard on all floors of flats in our building – if we didn’t have Auror quality silencing spells on the flat. Thankfully it’s a mixed residence so the wizards understand.”

“So you think Aurora might be beastly over what I did?”

“Yeah, and rightly so. But if you’re really sorry it happened, I think she might forgive you, especially if you never do it again.”

“So if I offered an Unbreakable Vow for her?”

“You’re barking. That doesn’t keep you wanting to shag people in your head and heart.”

“She’s not going to trust me again, not after that.”

“But Harry said that Carrington possible doused you. That sounds like assault to me, like using _Imperio_ , removing your consent. You’ve never done it before and you’re certainly sorry that it happened. How can she be beastly with you if you were dosed and couldn’t consent willingly?”

“You were dosed in a potion once, right? I remember you mentioning that some years ago. The stuff that your brothers kept in the shop was mostly innocent, except when it’s left to sit for months where the potion gets stronger. But you also have had cases where sods use the black market potions, the ones that automatically earn you a long stint in Azkaban, the ones that the nefarious to knock someone down in minutes.

“It’s the only explanation I have for acting like I did, no matter what my bits were begging for.” Hemera stared off in the distance. “But I made the choice to go to that pub that night, making it possible. My pity party opened the door to being manipulated and corrupted. I wonder if Cavendish was originally compromised the same way.”

“That’s a possibility. I can check – “

“NOOOOOOOO!”

Ron turned and ripped the curtain aside, wand in his hand, to see Harry sitting up in his bed, drenched in sweat, shuddering. Ron opened his arms and Harry fell into his strong embrace, weeping. “They’re dead. I couldn’t save them.”

“It’s OK mate. I know. You did everything you could.”

“Kids,” he stuttered before his voice failed.

“Weasley?” Hemera asked behind him.

“Nightmare. He gets them sometimes. Ginny normally can calm him down.” Ron turned his attention back to his best mate, holding him to his chest while prattling on in a soft voice.

Harry eventually calmed down. “Thanks,” Harry said. “I’d – “

“You’re safe. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Potter, I’m here too.”

“Safest place in London, I reckon. Probably safer than Gringotts, right?”

Harry laughed and pulled away from Ron’s chest to wipe his face on the blanket. “Damn bad one,” he growled. He reached for his glasses on the white table next to his bed and put on his glasses, then reached for the glass of water, drinking deeply.

“We had a shitty day. I’d expected it.”

“Got a book or something? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep again tonight.” Harry replaced the glass on the table and pulled his wand from the bedclothes and lit the candle on the table.

Ron went back to the bag he’d brought with him and pulled a book out. “Here ya go; a real page-turner, so says Hermione. She’s right, actually. I couldn’t put it down and fell asleep a few mornings reading the bloody thing.”

“Bloody book is enormous.”

“That’s just the first book. Hermione tells me that there are 8 more, just like it, and all of them are massive, too”

Harry settled down into his bed and was reading almost immediately, lost in another world, filled with ominous cloaked figures and a Chosen one who didn’t know he was chosen, yet while being hunted by nightmares of legend.

“You’re good for him, Weasley.”

“He’s my best mate. He’d do the same for me, too.” Ron glanced back at the other bed and saw Harry –enthralled. “And he has, more often than he realizes.” Ron shared a look with Hemera. “See, he forgave me.”


	15. Go or No Go

* * *

“So since we’re not sleeping the rest of the night, tell me about it.” Hemera Jones gave Ron one pointed look that would make the most hardened criminal wet themselves. But on him, after all the hard looks from Hermione, he was immune.

Ron side-eyed Harry and saw him slightly nod his head and keep reading. Bless that git for understanding what they all needed tonight.

“This doesn’t leave the room – for any reason. Deal?” Ron turned back to Hemera, intending to clam up if she didn’t agree.

“I promise.” Hemera winced again before taking a deep breath. “Next time break my arm. It’ll hurt less.”

“How about both so you forget your shoulder?”

“Idiot.”

“Yeah, I am. Anyway, how much do you know of what we went through the year of the coup?”

“Regarding you and Potter and Granger? Not that much. Kingsley wasn’t forthcoming. I thought for a while that he took an Unbreakable Vow from what he knew and refused to divulge. But I can guess some of it, and that guessing is probably wrong. Right?”

“He promised to not say anything unless I was the one to tell it. I’m glad he kept his promise.” Harry didn’t look up from his book and didn’t volunteer anything else. “Those days were what I needed but they were horrible. There are some secrets that absolutely must be kept. And the fewer people who know about it, the better, for everyone.”

Harry and Hemera shared a look before she broke eye contact and looked back at Ron sitting next to her bed.

“Anyway, my Brother Bill got married the day before Harry’s 17th birthday. We’d already moved Harry from his family home.”

“That was the night Mad-Eye died, wasn’t it?”

“It was. My brother Bill saw him fall from his broom. I remember – “ Ron stopped. “But that wasn’t Mad-Eye as a Defense teacher. That was an imposter. But I met him a few times and his words still echo in my head.”

“He was an amazing Auror before the stresses of the job broke him. Then again, when you do this job long enough, paranoia is a small price to pay.”

“Does Aurora help?”

“Immensely. While I can’t talk about specifics with her, which she understands, she’s there to listen without words, or when I’m upset and need a distraction. Sometimes all I need sometimes is for her to be there, not even doing anything except cooking dinner and prattling on about some of her students, or what she saw through the telescope the night before, or the turnips she picked up at the market that morning. You know, domestic stuff. All of that grounds me and reminds me I’m not my job.” The dark-eyed witch sighed before cringing in pain and saw him nodding. “It’s not just sex, Weasley. It’s that mundane day to day shit, the unimportant moments that make the moments worth living. It reminds me – and hopefully you – what is important – and it’s not this crap we fight day in and day out. Having someone share your life, even the really grotesque bits make it worth dealing with the grotty days.”

“Hermione does too. But I don’t know how to get through this.” Ron ran his hands through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Crass words erupted spilled past his lips. “They were kids and I know they signed up for this but fuck, they barely needed to shave more than once a week. They were first years when all of the shit at Hogwarts went down.” Ron looked up and saw Hemera watching him. “How can we ask these kids who were innocent those days to pay this kind of price? Why the hell did that wench think that she could blackmail, kidnap, and demand a place without earning it?”

“Guilt is a heavier price to carry, Weasley, if you’re going to do this job. But you also didn’t force those kids to sign on the line for this career. They knew what they were getting into, especially once they learned the history of the Aurors as cadets and had more time than you and Potter had to get to this point. The lessons Moody taught – and what not to do – are still being taught, especially by you.

“Now you got the conversation shifted. Nice try, Weasley.”

“Damn. I thought it wasn’t obvious.”

“I had Granger for a year. She was a pro. Now, back to Moody and that year.”

Ron sighed. “Bill saw Moody fall. My brother George lost an ear to Snape that night, the bastard. But we got Harry safely away and out of that sod’s possible hands. Everything came so close to going sideways that night, with all the shit flying around. Bill was rather fond of Moody in his own way. He was gutted that night over it, and more the next day when they couldn’t find him.

“But then the night of my brother’s wedding was when the ministry fell. That was about a fortnight later.” Ron bit his lips in a poor imitation of his wife.

Hemera waited patiently for him to continue and decided to interject. “I got caught up in that mess. It’s a wonder I escaped, much less Kingsley. He doesn’t like talking about it and I don’t either but you should know: I killed four people that night so I could escape – friends who I’d worked with for years. I think he had to kill six to escape. We were hunted from that night too. But he had been guarding the Minister and they jumped him. He couldn’t save Scrimgeour. Merlin knows he tried but someone blasted the Minister. Fell dead in Kingsley’s arms.”

“I didn’t know,” Ron’s voice was barely audible. “I’d go spare if I had to do that to escape.”

“That’s why Kingsley, Gawain, and I insisted the first ones back take Veritiserum and ask them if they were part of the coup. The ones who refused were incarcerated ‘til we could make sure. Those were some ugly first few days in the Ministry.”

“The only thing I remember is Percy being gone until the day of Fred’s funeral. He came with the Minister and left with him two hours later. The prat still won’t talk about it. I don’t think I saw him again until Harry’s birthday party at the end of July.”

“He was doing what Kingsley and I couldn’t do – go through reams of parchment and build the case for the prosecution for those who survived the purge. His efforts the first month are the stuff of legal legend. He singlehandedly put away Umbridge with his documentation of her Muggle interrogation court. He put Yaxley under the prison with more documentation.”

“So that’s what happened,” Ron said quietly. “He was holed up with all of the binders.”

“He was running on pepper up potions like so many of us did those first few weeks. There were quite a few of us who were addicted to the stuff and had to have the addiction broken. Trust me when I say it wasn’t pretty at all.”

Ron refused to speak up about Hermione that year he was separated from her. But Hemera probably knew about it so there was no reason to speak of it.

“Anyway, keep talking. I know Kingsley sent a warning. He said he sent his Patronus to Arthur. After that, it gets a bit blurry and fuzzy in the details. I don’t remember much that first week.”

“We received it in the middle of the wedding reception. Within moments, Death Eaters crashed the party. They were firing off spells left and right. Lupin shoved Harry into me and Hermione and the three of us apparated away. That night was pretty barmy. We didn’t know what was happening at home and couldn’t return because Dad sent his Patronus where we were hiding and told us to stay hidden.”

“And what did happen?”

“The bastards, they tried to hurt Ginny, thought they could get her to say where we were at. Or threaten her so someone would sell us out. Fleur spared Ginny and took down three with her Veela magic. I dunno if they died or were stunned but Dad said they escaped. Ginny was unharmed and so was Fleur. But we didn’t know that for a very, very long time.”

“Where did you hide, if I might ask?”

“Where we lived after the war ended for a few years – Grimmauld Place. Only Snape knew of it and we were hoping that he wouldn’t come calling. But we were able to hide there for almost two months. We had to leave it after the break-in of the Ministry.”

“Why did you do something completely mental?”

Ron stole a glance at Harry and Harry shook his head.

“We were hunting information and we thought the toad had it. It was mental and utterly barmy but it made sense at the time. We found some things out but we were caught and everything went sideways. Yaxley caught us during apparition and found our hiding place. We had to escape and did, thanks to Hermione. But I got hurt.”

“How bad? Did you get slammed into the ground and bust a shoulder?”

“Close,” Ron said. “I got splinched, nearly died from bleeding out. It’s a wonder that Hermione was able to save my life.” Ron lifted his left arm. “She must have used half a bottle of dittany on my arm, where almost the whole muscle and upper arm was scooped out in the mishap.”

“I never noticed that on you.”

“It’s there. I worked very hard during training to build it up strong. I’d noticed that my left shoulder had some weakness in it, especially doing close quarters dueling that I said I’d not allow it to be a vulnerability. And it’s not, anymore.”

“So you kept hiding?” The next thing I’d heard, months later, was that you’d been seen at Malfoy Manor and escaped again.”

“That, unfortunately, was true. We got caught by Snatchers and they figured me and Hermione out but not Harry. It’s a wonder we escaped there.”

“How did you?”

Ron took a deep breath. “Elven magic. Harry had a house elf who adored him and did anything he asked. The elf helped us escape – and paid the price for it. Hermione still talks about Dobby to this day.”

“And that’s where she changed, isn’t it?”

“If you mean where she has her trauma, yeah.”

“She told me about it, one time when we talked. She needed someone and her favorites were unavailable. I was it and she spilled everything – including how you saved her life.”

“I dunno about that,” Ron spoke up.

“He did. He just won’t admit to it.” Harry piped back down and went back to reading.

“Well, the git says I did so I’ll go with it.”

“Then a month later, there was a break-in at Gringotts, a dragon escaping and destroying the bank, and then you show up at Hogwarts. That made absolutely no sense. There were kids there.”

“Like I said, it made sense at the time. We thought we’d be able to rally people to the cause and maybe have the numbers to stop them for good. We did, eventually, but the costs were astronomical, as Hermione would say.” Ron rubbed his face. “The costs were enormous.”

“Your brother, right?”

“Yeah, along with many friends and friends of the family. Merlin, I saw Lavender dead in the Hospital wing. It was only months later that we found out that she was alive, if not a full werewolf.” Ron looked up from his hands. “That’s why she’s out of bounds. I admit I was an utter tosser to her as a boyfriend, I won’t stand anyone slag on her. She’s got so much courage,” Ron’s voice drifted off, not finishing the sentence.

“I lost someone too.”

Ron looked up at the witch in the bed in front of him. “I only found out after the fighting ended the night at Hogwarts. Even then it was months.” Hemera looked over towards the door, her gaze far off. “The bastards killed my brother. They went to his flat in Peckham and forced their way in. He should have been protected, being a Pureblood. Nope. They tortured him. Sods were hunting me but I’d spoken to him the day before they found him. He knew to not ask and I’d move after talking with him. He’d never know where I was. I warned him but he said, the last time we talked, ‘I’m a pureblood. What are they going to do to me? Not a bloody thing.’ Dumb sod thought he would be protected.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s why I was running myself ragged those months before the first term at Hogwarts started and I was on duty there, teaching as well as keeping watch. Instead of hunting down the bastards who murdered my brother, I was teaching first years spell theory I’d forgotten 25 years prior.”

“Tell me about him,” Ron leaned in closer, stealing a glance at Harry behind him. Harry had dozed off, his glasses askew, the book lying on his lap. “I’ll share about Fred if you want.”

“He was two years younger, and in Hufflepuff. My parents loved him while the rest of us teased him. He played Quidditch and was pretty good. He bounced around the various teams, being good enough to be on the team but not good enough to start every match. But like the rest of us, he adored Gwenog. He would practice with her in the summers growing up, throwing the Quaffle around with us while bludgers flew too. He flew pretty well but not as well as your sister does. She’s something else up there on a broom.” Hemera turned back to Ron, sitting slumped in his chair. “He had a good life ‘til those sods ended it.”

“You know who was responsible?”

“No one admitted to doing it. But my guess is Dolohov along with maybe Yaxley, or Rowle. The first two were notorious enough to do what they did to him.”

“How did you find out?”

“Your brother Percy found out about it and told me. He read a sheet of parchment listing interrogations. Most of it was bollocks but he came across my name and pieced together what he read. When he realized what he had, he took it to the Minister and he told me when I checked back in.”

“That’s probably worse than having a wall exploded onto you and killing you instantly.” Ron wiped his face with the back of his jacket. Another tear fell followed by another. “Shit, it’s been years and I still can’t talk about it without being a bloody ponce.”

“You’re not. That’s your brother. There’s no shame in feeling something for his loss. Merlin knows that I still hurt over missing Hector.”

“He wasn’t paying attention. Percy made a joke, telling Minister Thicknesse that he was resigning. Fred thought it was a joke from Percy and that prat rarely makes jokes. But he did, dueling up in the hallways before the explosion. When I came to, Fred was dead and Percy was inconsolable. We had to scramble away because Acromantulas were coming up the castle wall and into the castle. We had to run and drag Fred with us, to somewhere safe. It wasn’t until later that we saw the carnage in the Great Hall during the lull in the fighting.” Ron wiped his face again. “So many died. Merlin, it’s a wonder we didn’t all kark it.” Ron stared again, lost in memories. “Where were you that night?”

“Kingsley sent his Patronus when he arrived at Hogwarts with Remus and Tonks. I was outside flying with that silly git Oliver Wood, from Puddlemere, along with some other Quidditch players. Who knew they’d be that adept on aerial maneuvers and firing off spells while flying upside down.” Hemera inched up on the bed, wincing. “I know I knocked about ten off their brooms, possibly killing them by how fast everyone was flying. Up there, in the night sky with all the spells flying around, it’s a wonder we didn’t kark it as well, as you so eloquently put it.”

“I know that many were falling left and right, from what I saw later on, with Neville and Oliver bringing in casualties. I helped some, bringing students to the hospital wing. I must have brought a half dozen in myself.”

“I was too busy to have noticed. That was when Harry disappeared, too. Stupid git.”

“Well, I can tell you that Oliver and Neville brought the bulk of those injured in from outside, those they could get to. There were some, probably Death Eaters or such, who drown in the black lake or down in the other chasms. I dunno, frankly, but it was a high butcher’s bill.”

“And when Voldemort died,” Ron sighed and Hemera interrupted.

“Kingsley found me straight away and put me on the third most important mission – to chase down those who had escaped. We knew that plenty did, those who survived. We knew about Avery, and Dolohov, the Lestrange Brothers, along with Rookwood. Merlin, I still remember that moment, Kingsley staring at me an inch away, trying to whisper and failing since he’d been blown off his feet by Voldemort. _‘Dolohov escaped. Find him. Do whatever is necessary.’_

“So that’s why you were off ‘til Hermione saw you that day in Professor McGonagall’s office looking like dragon droppings.”

“Yeah. Thankfully Madame Pomfrey broke my pepper up addiction straight-away before term started. That was how I was running on 4 hours of sleep every three days. I don’t recommend it, ever.”

“So you – “

“I recognized it immediately if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. I knew something was up but she never said anything.”

“It wasn’t that she didn’t want to.”

“How do you know?”

“We had a rather pointed and candid talk one night during detention.”

“She had detention? With you?”

“Yes, with me. I think she’s still irate with me over that night’s detention.” Hemera looked at Ron and saw the look on his face. “She didn’t tell you that, did she?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Want to know? It’s not like I’m leaving this bed for a couple of days, I reckon.”

“Yeah, sure. Hermione’s never gotten detention, at least when Harry and I were there.” Ron tried to settle back in his chair and failed miserably.

“We had class one afternoon and she was present but otherwise not paying attention. I forget what the class topic was but that isn’t important. Anyway, I mentioned using a particular set of protocols in surveilling someone – which is Auror standards, and she contradicted me in class in front of everyone.”

“That sounds like Hermione, for sure.”

“Well, when I attempted to correct her, she went spare and sideways, saying that the Auror protocol would get people killed in certain situations, because of the waiting on reinforcements issue. I naturally disagreed and she wouldn’t listen to decades of experience. So I called her on it and she went mental. I gave her detention and you know what she did? Laughed. So I gave her a second for her cheek.”

“I bet that went over well.”

“As well as a missed bludger smacking you in the face when you whiffed it. She laughed harder and so I sent her to Minerva for her insolence. But by then the class was up in arms and so I called it a day, forty minutes early. Minerva found me a couple of hours later after talking with Miss Granger and said she would apologize when she saw me the next night for detention – and the next two as well, since Minerva gave her one for disrespecting me.”

“She did? I bet that stung.”

“So naturally when Miss Granger came for her first detention, we did sparring with wands. I wanted to see her angry, and how well she could actually perform. She did pretty well, considering she wasn’t going to be an Auror, but she was also predictable. I think I stunned her six times in an hour, and after each one, she was getting more irate, more furious, more vicious, but also easier to predict That last one she was close to killing, I’d swear. I can see why she was able to duel Bellatrix and not die within two seconds.

“Anyway, after the sixth one, I called it a session. She was furious, but I think it was more at herself than at me. I sent her on her way and I went to talk with Minerva. The next night, we did it again, and again I stunned her six times over. She never said a word to me, not even when she departed for the night. Once again I went to talk with Professor McGonagall because I was genuinely confused by Miss Granger. She bade me be patient and that Hermione would eventually come around to trusting me.

“She was wrong. The only times I could get her to talk were in class, only. But I also will admit this – she was absolutely right. I informed Gawain of what she said and how we handled things, especially in kidnapping and hostage situations. That was when we changed that protocol, to not wait when things are going sideways. That’s why we sent you and Potter in immediately on the warehouse job when things went to shit to try and salvage the situation and not wait for backup.”

“So before, you waited for backup? How many people died by doing it that way?”

Hemera took on a haunted look in her eyes. “Enough that it keeps me from sleeping some nights. I’m honestly glad Granger forced me to change my mind enough that I went to Robards and had the procedures changed. Sure we might lose an Auror now and then, but damn if we don’t keep more of those in need of protecting alive.” Jones looked up from the white woolen blanket on her bed covering her lap. “Being an Auror is a dangerous job. That’s why we signed up, right? Our job is to protect the innocent and capture the accused and bring them to justice. Staying safe is important but not at the expense of lives lost by our waiting on backup.”

“You don’t regret being bait in this whole affair, do you?”

“No, I don’t. I’d do it again. But I am upset that we lost Archer and Mallory along with the one who was causing all of this mess. They didn’t deserve to die on our watch.”

“We didn’t have anyone else to bring in, did we?”

“No, not really. Everyone else was out on assignment or for medical or other various reasons. We couldn’t wait for a day or three for Robards to get enough Aurors back to storm the proverbial castle. I hate though that we took juniors on the case, though.”

“That’s my fault. Harry and I could have done it ourselves. We should have – “

“You’re doing it again – blaming yourself for the actions of others. You think Daniel Archer would have stood back while his best friend was in danger? You know that you’d go mental if anything would happen to Harry.”

“Both of us would,” Harry spoke up in a groggy voice. “Ron doesn’t think so but he is my best mate and the one I trust the most. Anything happened to him and I’d – “

“We know, Harry. Now get some rest, would ya?” Ron cut across Harry.

“Git.” Harry had affection in his voice.

“Prat,” Ron replied back half-heartedly.

Ron turned back to see Hemera grinning. “See, I told you. It’s obvious to everyone in the office. Robards knows it too, which is why he has the two of you working together much of the time. The two of you work well together.”

“But I also know that there is going to be an uproar over this situation.”

Ron hung his head. “I’m fully expecting to be sacked tomorrow over the whole thing.”

“Bollocks. If anyone will, I will. I started the whole thing and didn’t kick the strumpet out of the program the minute she tried to blackmail me. If they are hunting for a head, I’ll let them take mine before yours. You are entirely too valuable for this department long term. You have a real head on your shoulders for this job and how to do it right while also keeping integrity and honor in it.”

Ron looked away from the bed, his ears turning a virulent shade of red.

“You know I’m right.”

“Maybe, but how can Harry and I change the department when it’s been the same for centuries?”

“Innovate. Get Granger to help assess the procedures and protocols. Have your bureaucrat brother write and document it all. The only ones who might have an issue are Williamson and I but we’ll change if it helps to do the job better and keep those we protect safer, even if we are in more danger.”

“So that means rushing into danger if we have to, regardless of our personal safety, right?”

“Absolutely. I already live with the horror of finding witches dead because we waited to go in with overwhelming force when, had we gone in immediately, even if we put ourselves in peril, would have saved lives.” Her face turned hard. “I don’t want you living with the guilt I do by possibly letting people die because we waited to be safer. It’s bollocks.”

“What else can we do? Since Harry and I are Seniors now, can we also make sure that the ones we bring into the department are above reproach? I don’t want another entitled Pureblood getting in and thinking they have it made just because of their name or heritage.”

“It won’t since they have to pass Healer Reeves and she’s a niffler for anyone having some hidden anger issues. And if you mean a pure meritocracy? It might work if we can assure the Wizengamot that our ideas are meant to keep the Corps to the highest ideals of honor and integrity.” Her eyes grew hard yet again. “That might mean having Slytherins in the department, with their ideas of integrity. Can you handle that?”

“I don’t care which house they are from. I want them to be willing to step into the fray and take a spell if it means saving the lives of others. I’m tired of losing other Aurors, mind you, but by Merlin, I’m more tired of people dying because we want to be safe. Shit, if I want to be safe, I’d quit and go work for George where I might have a chance of dying only once a week rather than any particular shift I lace my boots up.”

“Hermione doesn’t know how dangerous our job has been, does she?”

“Frankly, I think she does, on some level. She knows when I come home and can’t talk and sees how upset I am and need a fast hard … anyway, she’s receptive to my needs on those days and doesn’t question it. But I’m also sure she gets some reports to know something, even if she doesn’t comprehend how damn scared I get out there sometimes. Fuck, I was when I saw you hostage and I couldn’t think fast enough on how to protect you, the others, and keep Harry safe.”

“Did you think that Harry had your back?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s also protecting him, too.” Ron rubbed his neck and looked over his shoulder. Harry was asleep again, snoring softly with the book fallen into his lap. He turned back to the witch in the bed before him. “From the first time I met him, and I realized who he was, I hoped I would be his friend, even if I didn’t realize how complicated that might be. I could see that he was dressed in natty robes, and I was right. They were grotty hand-me-downs from his cousin who was a spoiled sod. Harry was mistreated growing up by his Muggle relatives and to hell with them. It wasn’t ‘til years later that Harry and I talked about what happened to him growing up. It’s fortunate that I was underage otherwise I’d have hexed them to oblivion. And don’t ask Ginny what she thinks of them, either. If you think I’m bad in reacting to them, don’t get her wound up about those Muggles. It’s far from pretty.

“Anyway, so sure everyone knew who Harry Potter was, even then as kids. No one _really_ knew who I was and I had this rubbish thought that Mum and Dad had five older brothers and a sister. I was more than redundant, but Harry was important. So I promised myself that I’d look out for him, and protect him as much as I could, and be the best friend a bloke could want. Sure we have had our rows sometimes,”

“Not counting the knock-down drag-out in front of me in training that day, obviously,” she added.

“Yeah, that wasn’t one of my better moments, mind you, but we laugh about it now. Anyway, he’s my brother and I’m closer to him than most of my siblings, ‘cept maybe Ginny or George. I trust him completely even if he’s a bit of a prat sometimes. And while Hermione gives me hell for it, I’d rather take an injury if it keeps Harry from being hurt or killed. But for some silly arsed reason, he is the one in the hospital bed more than I am. I can’t figure it out.”

“Maybe it’s that you’re trying to be more of a hero than he is and he’s protecting your back. Ever think of that?”

“Yeah, maybe. I’d rather be in the hospital bed dealing with Hermione than hearing it from Ginny or Mum that Harry got hurt. If anything happened to him, I’d go spare and probably crawl into a Firewhiskey bottle and never come out.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t, but you’d probably get yourself hurt horribly and permanently if you did anything about it, or earn a stint in Azkaban.”

“Not like I’d want that,” Ron replied with little fire. “He’s my best mate. I’d do anything for him. And I pretty much have, like he has for me.”

“So help me and him revolutionize the department, then. I know you’re broken up over what happened today. I am too even if I don’t look like it. But there _has_ to be a balance between protecting your fellow Aurors and protecting those who need it. The old methods aren’t working anymore, not in this new era. I’ll work with you to find new ways of doing this job, so fewer people are hurt.”

“You think we can, even with Robards having a wand up his ass when we make suggestions on how we can do the job better?”

“I think so. You might think he’s a bit of an arse but he’s actually softened up since he took the Director’s job this time around. He actually listens to the guys in the field and trusts them more than insisting that they do things his way now. And if you say you did it and can give him good reasons for breaking protocol, like saving lives, sod the rules, he’ll back you up 100%. Remember when we broke countless laws to get your Mum back safely? How you got the shit beat out of you magically to save her?”

“Of course I do. That was Mum.”

“He didn’t tell you he caught hell from the Wizengamot, even if everything was legally justified. The Purebloods on the court were 27-26 in making Gawain redundant. He barely held on, but only because Kingsley spoke up for him and that we caught the Death Eater and saved your Mum and only broke the laws as a very last resort. So you might think of him as a bit of a tosser, but he’s quietly had your back for yonks now.”

“I kind of figured that.”

“So once I’m out, you and Potter will sit down with me and we’re going to re-write the procedure book. Merlin knows it’s barely been updated in a century practically. Help me makes those lives that were lost today worth something, so we can save the next ones from bureaucratic cockups.”

Ron chewed his lips in a fair imitation of Hermione while stewing over everything Senior Auror Jones spoke about. Deep down, he knew she was right, and that the bureaucracy caused more problems than solutions. Then again, he knew that from Hermione. “All right, I’ll do it. I’ll help. Maybe it’ll help with some of the guilt I’m feeling.”

“Ron, that feeling never _really_ goes away. You just learn to put it aside a while and do the job. We can mourn the dead but I’ll be arsed if we don’t fight like hell for the living.” Hemera put her hand out and Ron gripped it, contrasting his freckled, pale and scarred skin to her dark scarred skin. “We owe Daniel and George that much.” She smiled but it barely touched her eyes.

“And we’ll do it for them, and the rest who will follow them,” Ron added.

 


	16. Communication Silence

* * *

_Knock Knock_

“Come in,” a gravelly voice answered the quiet knock on the door. Hermione slipped in before closing it softly behind her.

“Jones,” her voice cracked and she didn’t look like she had slept much. “You’re awake.” Hermione looked over and saw Ron snoring in a pointedly uncomfortable chair between them. Harry, as she expected, was fast asleep in his bed.

“He crashed about two hours ago after I woke back up. I told him I’d stay awake and keep watch while he took a kip.” Hemera lifted her chin instead of lifting her arm. “You look like a dragon took a dump on you.”

“You’re crass, as always, but you are accurate. I’ve been at the Ministry most of the night. I took that sample by George and he affirmed it was originally his but when he tested it, he said it was not his formula. Someone had tampered with it further, by adding distilled ethanol into it. That additional ingredient made it stronger, more potent. So what you thought that went into your drink wasn’t in the drink. George said if you had the entire dosing of the potion, it would have poisoned you and killed you inside a minute. His theory and I agree is that a bare glossing on the lips would be enough for a dose, provided the poisoner was immune or protected.”

“You mean when she kissed me that first time, that was enough?”

“He reckons so. I took the sample to the Ministry Potioneer to test. But you know that will probably take weeks to make a determination.” Hermione glanced over at the two men, one in the bed and the other snoring even louder from his head thrown over the back of the chair. “When I write up the background for this case to present to my Director, I will have in it that you were dosed by a contaminated potion which caused you to be compromised by Carrington. I’m going to write up that, while compromised, it had no bearing on this case.”

“You know as well as I do that it’s no excuse. It means it’s already in your head and you’re acting on it, to hell with the consequences.”

Hermione stole a glance at Ron. “I know that one all too well,” Hermione said to herself. “We all make mistakes, Jones. I’ve made enough for a lifetime. All of us have.”

“Give it another twenty years or so, Granger, and get back with me about it.”

Hermione snorted. “Well, I’ll give you that.” She glanced back at the other two. “Since it’s half three, I’ll head home and have a kip. I have to be in at 8 am and speak with the director about the case involving junior Auror Carrington.”

“Granger?”

Hermione stopped at the door. “Yes?”

“You don’t like me. You never have. You were nothing but a pain in my arse the first year I knew you and you’re still a pain in the ass. Why?”

Hermione sighed. “Do you want the abridged answer or long one?”

“Both.” Stern witches looked at one another.

“Short answer, since you asked, is this: You’re condescending. You irritate me to no end. There’s something off about you that I can’t figure out.”

“It’s because I’m gay.”

“That’s not it. Who and how you engage in carnal relations is irrelevant to me. Anyway, the long answer is that you’re patronizing and I’m get upset when my researched suggestions on how to improve situations for your job are dismissed without given a second thought. So, you irritate me for being stupid. I don't trust anyone who won’t listen when someone provides an alternative, even if it’s rubbish. The only ones who can get away with it are asleep in this room. Furthermore, I don’t know you so I don’t trust you. Since we don’t work directly together, I won’t get to know you. But my husband and best friend swear that you’re on the up and up and they trust you with their lives. I trust them with mine. It could be that we’re knocking sparks.

“Every professional relationship we’ve had is where you are a supervisor or mentor, never a peer. You’ve never treated me as anywhere near your equal, much less those two who I love more than my own life. By Merlin, I’ve worked my ass off to earn your respect and they have too. At some point, I hope to hell that you will respect them. I can deal with you being rude towards me.”

The dark witch in the institutional white bed nodded. “It’s nothing I didn’t expect. Go on.”

“While your dedication and work ethic is incredible, it’s a façade and not who you really are. But I doubt at this point I’ll ever know.”

“Sorry Granger, but what you see is what you get.”

“Then you’re one hell of an actress because all I see is a rude crass witch. When I first met you, you were yet another face in line at Hogwarts, teaching things that I honestly didn’t think were important. Yes, you had authority as a Professor at Hogwarts. You were there at the personal invitation of Professor McGonagall. Yes, I knew that you were there on a Mission for the Minister, while also keeping watch. I admit that I didn’t handle your class well, especially giving cheek so often. But then I’d lived through probably the worst things in my entire life less than a year prior and I wasn’t going to listen to someone tell me that what I went through was bullshit.”

Hemera smirked.

“Yes, I cursed. I do that from time to time. Ron has rubbed off on me but sometimes the harshness of a particular word is necessary.”

“Go on. I’m listening. I figure that after the last couple of days, I should listen to my mistakes so I can learn from them. You’ll also not sugar coat anything for my benefit.”

Hermione leaned against the door. “I don’t know where you got the idea that we’d be friends from the first day. I don’t know why you presumed that I would be so open and trusting with someone I didn’t know. Not even Professor McGonagall can force that. But,” Hermione stopped and she saw Hemera nodding, “But when you were teaching us, you were so bloody mental. You didn’t listen to anything the survivors were telling you. Because you were an Auror, you taught the class like no one else had gone through anything worse than taking our OWLs. Everyone in your classroom of seventh-year students had been through hell, one way or another. Yet you treated us like first years that didn’t deserve to be out from our Mum’s apron strings.”

“I had a task, Granger. The Minister wanted you in the Auror Corps and we needed the help. He thought you would be an amazing asset. I was also there to see if anyone else had the aptitude for it. When you’re down to 12 Aurors from 100 because of the culling and the Coup, you take what might work.”

Hemera winced while shifting in her bed. “But there was something else, something personal. Ron let it slip that you attacked him one time, with magic. He explained what happened when he was first assigned to me as a trainee. He tried to say he was responsible for it, and I know that’s bullshit. But it caused a huge problem. Do you want to know what that was, and what happened as a result?” Hemera’s eyes flashed. “No matter how hard I worked him, insulted him, belittled him, or humiliated him, he wouldn’t raise his wand against me. An Auror who won’t defend himself is useless to me and will probably get a whole team killed. No matter what I did to him, he wouldn’t raise his wand against me. He’d have no problems with the other Seniors in training. But me, a woman? He said he couldn’t do it, ‘cause of what you did to him.

“Do you know how bloody long it took me to re-train Ron after that incident? It took a month of daily training; a month of wasted time, all because you got shirty he went and kissed another girl ‘cause you couldn’t pull your finger out and tell the bloke you fancied him.”

“I couldn’t afford to lose him as my best friend!” Hermione yelled. She looked and saw Harry roll over in his bed and Ron shift but went back to snoring. “I didn’t know and you never said.”

“I was too busy fixing your mistakes, mistakes you never bother to apologize for. Hell, even I can say I’m sorry and I’m as much of an asshole as anyone. But you? Ron casually mentions off-hand that he has to back down while rowing with you, and apologize any time that you think he’s wrong.”

“That’s impossible. Ron never backs down from a fight, especially with me.”

“Isn’t it? You weren’t there seeing him constantly being knocked on his arse because he wouldn’t raise his wand in self-defense. When someone you love attacks you with magic it is a hard betrayal to overcome. But somehow he did but the consequences held him back until he pulled his head out of his arse and raised his wand to me and fought back like you finally did. Sure it took me dropping my wand and beating him to a pulp with my fists before he got angry enough and slugged me back.”

“Good for him,” Hermione muttered. “I would have loved to slug you myself some of those days.”

“Things would have gone swimmingly for you had you tried, Granger. You might have gotten over your fear and made something of yourself, for the Auror corps.”

“I have, but not in the way you or the Minister envisioned.

“And I am, but not in the way he envisioned. No, you tried your damnedest to get me to fall into that, risking life and limb like Ron and Harry.” Hermione bit her lip and stared at her husband, sitting awkwardly in the chair, still snoring, while Harry had turned on his side, skewing his glasses, snoring softly in the dim light of the room. “We went through hell and saw too much. I still have nightmares, these years later.” Her voice cracked on the last words. She took a big breath. “I couldn’t cope with it as a job, not after seeing people I respected, murdered before my very eyes.” Hermione turned back and wiped her face with her hand, smearing the last of the minuscule make-up she deigned to wear. “You’ve seen people murdered in front of you, I presume, right?” Hemera nodded. “Have you ever been in the situation where you couldn’t do a damn thing to save them, not when you had a greater task to accomplish? I did and witnessing that traumatized me. Those nightmares, of seeing him be killed right in front of our eyes, and I had to sit there and watch him bleed out, struggling to keep the blood from seeping from between his fingers and failing. I had to watch his last minute of life and not lift a finger to save him. I can still hear that scream, of fear and agony, in my nightmare. Sometimes I’m screaming. Sometimes it’s Harry or Ron.

“And then there was the torture I went through. That was… I still live with the side-effects. Did Ron ever tell you of those? It’s never fun being constantly cold, yet living with the nerve pain in my hands and strange tingling in my legs and feet. There are some days that a pain potion barely takes the edge off, much less lets me function. It’s like a toxic neuropathy and there is no cure for it. It’s also a bloody wonder that particular bit of information hasn’t been sold to the highest bidder. But then you were pretty instrumental, I presume, in keeping that bit of information quiet while at school, too, right?

Hemera nodded, barely.

“And then there was that moment when I was faced with the person responsible for my torture and why I still have side-effects of it. There was no way in Hell I would let her hurt my friends. Even if I died, I wasn’t going to stand aside. There was only one outcome, and it didn’t include arresting her.” Hermione motioned her wand and a chair slid over to her. She collapsed into it. “And that scares me, Hemera, and why I realized that I could never take Kingsley’s offer to be an Auror. My fury overrode any good sense when I saw her blasting people left and right inside the Great Hall. I was so angry, watching her hurt kids. I promised that no one else would be hurt by her. When I went up against her, I had no intention of disarming her. No, when I faced her, I fully intended to kill her, if I could.”

“But you didn’t,” Hemera spoke softly.

Hermione seemed to shrink down in the chair. “It wasn’t for a lack of trying on all of our parts. I only realized later that Luna and Ginny were there with me dueling by my side. I didn’t know Harry was alive until that powerful shield charm went up in front of Mrs. Weasley. Only he could do that. I wasn’t in any condition to think beyond the next moment and it didn’t include protecting her.”

“How can you remember all of this, so many years later?”

“Oh, that? I have iconic and eidetic memory. I’ve been that way since I was a child. I can remember things easily but distilling information that is useful is hard.”

“But I’ve seen you work your ass off. If you are so powerfully minded, why are you such a workaholic?”

“You know why,” she replied quietly. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“You are paranoid, that you don’t belong, and that paranoia makes you a pain in the ass to those who know you. You have to be the best at everything, even if it hurts your friends. You’re also afraid to fail.”

Hermione nodded once. “I’ve been through hell, estrangement, and loss. I’ve suffered from insomnia that would drive most people around the twist after the nightmares were too much. I’ve survived things that drove some of the best Aurors to a complete mental breakdown. And after everything, including you riding my ass, I’m still afraid of failing, whatever that might be.” Hermione glanced over at the other two men in the room and saw them both snoring away. She turned back to regard the witch in the bed. “After the whole thing with Mrs. Weasley and the rows I had with Ron, I had to step back and actually trust them. They can’t always explain things to my satisfaction when the time is vital. But Ron’s never let me down when it comes to doing his job the right way.

“The only thing I worry about now is how this job hurts him so much.” Hermione rubbed her eyes again, smudging the eyeshadow just a bit more.

“Someone has to do the grotty work, Granger. It takes someone with integrity to do it without being corrupted quickly.”

“And what about you?” Her bloodshot eyes were as hard as diamonds. “I might wonder if a pretty set of eyes can make you turn your head.”

“You never pull a punch, do you?”

Hermione didn’t smile. “I’m told it’s one of my better qualities.”

“Is this a Ministry endorsed interrogation?”

“No. This is me asking you if you’ve been corrupted. I won’t have those two,” she glanced behind her and saw Harry with his eyes barely open. If Harry was awake, Ron would be too. She turned back to Auror Jones. “I won’t have them working with someone who can be bribed with sex to turn the other way or refuse to arrest someone they have had a dalliance with. I’ll report you myself, even at the cost of upsetting them. I will do everything in my power to keep another coup from happening. And it starts with corruption.”

“How dare you!” Hemera roared.

Hermione’s voice was ice. “I dare because I love them more than my own life. I’ve proven it to them. You haven’t. Answer me now or so help me – “ Hermione pulled her wand and stared down the older witch in the bed.

“Enough. I’ll answer.” Hemera took a deep breath. “I did as required, informing Kingsley of what happened immediately. I also wrote it up for the Director and it’s in my record, for when my fitness report comes up. It’s only now that my partner found out and might throw me over the side. It might be that those who work for me, like you two sodding idiots, quit respecting me, for what happened.” Hermione glanced over and saw both were wide awake. “But if the Director demands my credentials and I’m forced out for it, I’ll accept it. If Aurora throws me aside for my indiscretion, I’ll accept that too. Merlin knows I’ve cocked up my life enough these past few months to everyone’s ire. Satisfied?”

Hermione dropped her wand and stowed it in the concealed holster on her left arm. “For now,” she answered.

Ron erupted in laughter. “Merlin, you’re as bad as I am.” Ron chortled. He stood and stretched, showing off a small strip of skin and some ginger hairs along his navel. “Every time I cock up, I expect everyone to kick me out of the house,” Ron smiled at Hermione, “Fire me from my job and get kicked in the shin by this git.” Ron looked at Harry and smiled. “And you know what? It never happens, no matter how much the fuck up. You might get yelled at but that’ll probably be the end of it.”

Hermione pushed her chair aside and went to her husband. He bent down for a quick chaste kiss and stretched again. “Heading home or back to the Ministry?”

“I’m going home for a shower, a kip, something to eat. That order might be different. I’ll be in my office around 8. I have to talk with my Director over what happened.” Hermione tucked her purse under her elbow along with the sealed parcel of the contaminated potion and went for the door. “I’ll leave the office around noon so we can have a little time together.”

Ron and Hemera watched Hermione depart. Hemera shifted back into the bed, wincing. “I think I’m due for another dose of pain potion.”

“It’s only,” Ron looked at his watch, as battered as it was, “four am. I thought you weren’t due to get more ‘til six.”

“Nah. I got dosed at 10 pm. Though Merlin knows how little I’ve slept the last couple of days. I could use a few hours of being conked out on pain meds.”

“When was the last time you slept more than four hours?”

“I dunno, maybe a week ago?”

“When the nurse comes in, ask her if she’d get a Healer to sign off on a dose of Dreamless sleep. Merlin knows when I’m too keyed I take a half dose and I’m out for twelve hours.”

“A half dose?”

“Yeah, I’m sensitive to the ingredients. They work too well for me. Hermione, though, she takes a full dose, rarely but she will, and she might sleep for seven hours. Though if she sleeps that long, she’s sore and sluggish and anxious, like she’s afraid she missed something. But most nights she’ll sleep about five. Her insomnia won’t let her sleep any more.”

“I’m impressed, Weasley. She’s so protective of you, when she’s a world class pain in the ass. But I can also tell that you are so very good for her. You interact like you’ve been married for years, not 2 of them. It’s rare to have a partner willing to have a row with their supervisor.”

“You know her as well as I do, frankly. But after the war, she did change. I like to think that my sister and Luna had a lot to do with it, about how she finally learned to appreciate things and quit knocking sparks over everything. When she left for Hogwarts was completely different than when she came home. I dunno what happened or how it happened, but she changed and it was for the better. Merlin, I sound like a ponce for saying this, to you of all people.”

“I get it. I watched it slowly that year at Hogwarts. I’m not privy to what happened since I wasn’t the Gryffindor Head of House, but I do know that the three of them were thick as thieves that year, along with that nice lad Dean Thomas. Sure I learned that he was having relations with Luna Lovegood – “

“Yeah, that threw all of us for a huge loop. But then they have a particularly special bond, the way Luna talks about it. But they seemed to help one another heal, or at least cope with their experiences in the war.”

“Minerva never did tell me how Luna kept getting into the Gryffindor common room.”

“Luna? I doubt the Fat Lady would keep Luna out since she was part of the group protecting the younger students. Then again she’s pretty smart in her own ways, even if she seems a bit daft in others. She’s sweet in her own wonky ways. I’d not trade her for much of anything. I’m sure she was able to access it whenever she wanted.”

Ron pointed his wand at the door and quickly dropped it. A medi-witch came in with a tray of potions. “It’s time for Auror Jones to receive her medications. I also have some for Auror Potter if he’s awake.”

Ron turned to see Harry and he was back snoring away. “You might be able to get him at 6.”

Ron and Hemera watched the medi-witch document all of the potions she was taking and what doses. She inquired about having a dose of Dreamless sleep and received an approval for it, too. Eventually, everything was completed and Hemera was settled back into her bed after stepped gingerly to the Loo with the medi-witch and Ron’s help.

“I can’t believe you saw my arse. I’ve lived for forty years and today is the first time someone, not my Healer or lover or parent has seen my arse.”

“Well, it did look rather fit,” he cheeked.

Hemera yawned. “The potions seem to be working quickly.”

“I’m on duty ‘til six. If you wake after, I’m sure someone else will be here with you.”

“You know that it’s rubbish that we have an Auror on duty for anyone in the Hospital now. It seems like a waste of manpower, standing guard over sleeping patients.” Hemera drifted off to sleep, leaving Ron smirking.

“Maybe so but if the Director says so, then I do so. But maybe we can start having Apprentice Aurors assigned that task.” Ron went back to his chair and found a magazine to read while whittling away the hours of boredom remaining.

* * *

“Your wand is rattling, dear.”

Ron heard the voice in the distance but he couldn’t care.

“Ron, it’s the office. They need you to come in.”

“Sod’em,” He muttered from his pillow.

“Well, yes, that is a normal response but this came from Kingsley himself.”

“What time is it?”

“Noon.”

“Fuck,” He rolled over and found the bedroom entirely too bright, Hermione too awake, and the day way too early for his own good. “This better be bloody well important, waking me after 3 hours of sleep.” He found his black trousers tossed haphazardly on the floor along with a vest and shirt. Deprecations erupted periodically from him, all while Hermione was intentionally not paying attention.

He went to the loo and splashed some water on his face and ran his wet fingers through his hair. He looked like an Inferius left in the bog entirely too long. Sod’em since they woke him after one of the worst days of his professional life.

“I’m going in. I have no idea when I’ll be back.” He stepped to the fireplace and stopped when he saw Hermione come up to him wearing one of his shirts. She had the sleeves rolled up halfway to her elbows and the tail ends covered all of the exciting and important bits. “See if they can give you a few of days off. You look like you need a break.” She stretched up on her toes to give him a kiss and a squeeze of his bum. “That’s your incentive to get back home as soon as possible.”

“Bloody tease,” He growled and got a handful of Floo powder. He barked the destination and was off in a swirl of green flames. Mere moments later he was standing in the lift at the Ministry, giving everyone a shirty glance to anyone who dared look at him. Fortunately it was Saturday and the Ministry wasn’t crowded. The lift quickly dropped him at the proper floor and scurried off, like the lift was running from him. He stalked into the department and saw a few others at their desks, working on other assignments.

The Director’s door was open as he expected. “Better be bollocks and I can get back to sleep,” he said to himself.

_Knock knock knock_

“Enter,” a gravelly voice barked through the door.

Ron stepped in and saw that the Minister was present, along with the Director and the Chief Mugwump for the Wizengamot, Ewan Purifoy. “Gentlemen,” Ron affirmed everyone in the room before standing at the door.

“I apologize for calling you in but the Minister and the Head Warlock have some questions for you.”

“Do I need my Ministry supplied Solicitor present?”

The Chief Mugwump spoke up. “No, this isn’t a formal inquiry.”

“Sure seems like it,” Ron said under his breath. “How can I help?”

“Auror Weasley,” the elderly warlock motioned for Ron to move to the chair next to the director’s desk. Ron shuddered slightly, recalling how the chair of judgment was in chambers. “I asked because you’re too tall and I can’t keep my neck bent like that too long.”

Ron chuckled. “Yes, sir.” Ron sat down on the edge of the seat and fought his nerves, which tended to include bouncing on his toes and dry-washing his hands.

“Now, will you tell us about the events in the flat at Diagon Alley yesterday? Junior Auror Carrington was related to some other people on the Wizengamot and some are quite upset at what has been said about her in relation to the situation. I’m here to get clarification on this sordid situation.”

“What’s there to be upset about? She kidnapped two people to force her way into being an Auror. She heard a story from another Auror that in the older times, a Junior would have a Senior kidnapped and then mount a rescue. But when the Junior Auror realized that blackmail wouldn’t work, nor the kidnapping scheme, she got desperate to receive the promotion.

“Thing is, had she just kept her head for another fortnight, she would have gotten it. Her actions in blackmailing Pierre Cavendish wouldn’t have gotten out and she’d have gotten what she wanted.”

“Why do you say that, Auror Weasley? I had someone pull her personnel file and she was a model apprentice. There is no documentation of any impropriety on her part, ever.”

Ron sat up a little taller. “The department had some promotions recently and there were additional slots for promotion. She was in the top 4 already and while a bit aggressive in her ambition, she was capable of doing her job without cocking things up. But for some reason which we haven’t found out yet, she was blackmailing Pierre Cavendish to get the promotion and when that didn’t work, because of the change to require two senior Aurors to sign off on it, she tried to blackmail Senior Jones.”

“So it was Miss Carrington who did all of those dreadful things? It wasn’t someone who set her up, or committed these unspeakable crimes to frame her?”

Ron looked at the Chief Mugwump like he’d unscrewed the only bulb in his head. “Yes, sir. Senior Jones is in St. Mungo’s right now with significant injuries from the ordeal, including a broken shoulder from me falling on her to shield her from further injury. Junior Carrington murdered another junior Auror that she kidnapped and two more juniors perished trying to save him. To abscond with the victims, she had to stun more than one Auror and used an Unforgivable Curse to incapacitate me. I dunno sir but the number of witnesses can confirm everything that happened.”

“Was he dead, Auror Weasley, the other junior Auror you mentioned?”

“I can’t say for certain either way, sir. He wasn’t moving but he could have been breathing or seriously injured. No one was able to determine his situation.”

The elderly wizard turned to the Director and Minister Shacklebolt. “Gentlemen, this is most troubling, most troubling indeed. How will the others on the Wizengamot react to knowing that Angus McClaggen’s great-niece was involved in this problem? Secondly, they aren’t going to be happy that half of our upcoming Aurors were killed on a botched rescue mission.”

“She’s related to that idiot?” Ron exclaimed.

All three men turned to Ron and he turned aubergine. “Sorry, sir. My apologies.”

“Do you have something to say, Mr. Weasley?” The elderly wizard’s watery blue eyes bored into him.

Ron gulped. “No, sir. I was out of line. Please continue.” Ron kept his eyes focused over Kingsley’s shoulder to keep from shrinking down from all of the withering gazes.

The men turned back to Director Robards. “Gawain, let me ask this: Who came up with this bloody stupid idea? Everything I’ve read on the rescue mission seems like it’s completely against procedures and risky, proving so with so many fatalities. Was it this idiot?”

Ron gulped but saw Robards shake his head slightly.

“No, it wasn’t.” The Director’s gravelly voice betrayed no emotions. “Auror Jones and I discussed how to find the traitor in the department. If we had asked Weasley or Potter to be the bait, they would have done so. Neither of them has ever shirked their duty as Aurors from the first day as trainees. But Auror Jones mentioned that she thought Carrington was behind the unexplained deaths, because of the blackmail attempt in the fall. She offered to be the bait and trust Weasley and Potter to rescue her since the whole department knows that they are the best at rescues.”

Ron flushed at the enormous compliment the director gave him, but kept quiet and listened.

“Auror Jones knew the risks and once Potter and Weasley were briefed they were on the plan. What we didn’t anticipate was Carrington would kidnap Junior Auror Archer as well. He left a parcel in his desk containing information pertaining to Junior Carrington. He implicated her in various instances of lawbreaking, muggle and magical. There are additional instances of blackmail, going back from the first day she was an apprentice. All instances crossed the line from network to corruption.

“As for the rescue, like every single plan, it only lasts until the mission starts. Everything from there is adapt and overcome. While I did not approve of having two apprentice Aurors maintain a perimeter of the scene, it was what they had, given our limited manpower the last 3 days. The two in question are top of their class and followed procedure to the letter. Every other Auror was out on assignment or on Medical duty. The only ones immediately available were the junior Aurors present with Weasley and Potter.”

“Why is it, Gawain, that anytime there is a problem with this department, I always hear the names Potter and Weasley? I never have a complaint from any of the other Aurors except those two blithering idiots.”

Ron watched Director Robards face grow harder, somehow.

“Well, sir,” frost floated in the room from those two little words, “I trust them to follow procedure until things go sideways and then adapt and overcome, with the least amount of complications. You’ll also note that there was only one case up to now where the department Obliviators had to be called in to settle the situation and that was the case last year.”

“The only one? I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, sir. They are very sensitive to muggle sensibilities and their explanations are easily accepted by the civilian population. Yes, they cock things up from time to time but they are excellent Aurors and a tremendous asset to the department.”

“So you’re saying this incompetent idiot isn’t responsible for the death of four junior Aurors? I was told by a source that it was this stupid sod’s idea.”

“You’re a idiot, Ewan. Weasley knows better than to go above my head and has since I busted him two years ago. Right, Weasley?” Ron nodded emphatically. “So no, sir. If anyone is responsible, I am. I’m the Director and any mission requires my authorization. Potter and Weasley do not go off a mission without approval. Isn’t that right, Senior Auror Weasley?”

“Senior Auror? When the bloody hell did he receive a promotion? Why wasn’t I notified?”

“Sir,” Robards settled back into his chair. “While you are on the Wizengamot and Chief Mugwump, I have discretion on who earns promotions and who gets held back. Potter and Weasley earned their promotions, many times over. You, however, sir, were the one who demanded they be held back from it for the last 2 years, for some bloody reason I can’t fathom. Every single time I requested their promotion, you rejected it. Well, this time, the Minister saw that my request was legitimate and approved it, overriding your veto.”

The old wizard scowled. “Don’t take that tone with me, Gawain. I am still Chief Mugwump and the Wizengamot listens to my counsel. Your voice is small by comparison.”

“They do, but you never explained to my satisfaction why you outright rejected their promotions when others before them received so for doing considerably less.”

The Chief Mugwump turned to stare at Ron. “I don’t trust a traitor, ever. There’s only one of the bunch worth his wand is that Percival. The rest? These Weasleys were at the heart of it. This idiot was part of the coup – “

Ron jumped out of the chair, now towering over the doddering old man. “You’re full of shit, sir. The coup was when Voldemort, using Pius Thicknesse as his puppet, ran the ministry, decimated the wizarding community using that completely mental fuckstrumpet Umbridge to do his dirty work, and had that criminal Yaxley destroy the Auror corps by preventing anyone who wasn’t a pureblood from working in the department. Those who were left committed assassinations on behalf of the Death Eaters – or turned the other way when the same ones did the murders.”

The elderly wizard waved his hand away, like brushing away an annoying biteme. “You still broke the laws, repeatedly, and caused the deaths of –“

“How the bloody fuck did you ever stay in the Ministry?” Ron could barely growl out his words. “Were you one of those cowards who stayed back, kept your head down but supported what the bastards were doing, killing Muggles and Muggleborns with impunity and demanding that all Half-bloods be subservient? You’re a disgrace. No wonder why shit can’t be fixed, not with a – “

“Get this bastard out of here,” The Chief reached for his sleeve to pull his wand. “This arrogant piece of shit – “

Ron had his wand out and pointed at the chief in a heartbeat, while the other two were slower to intervene. “Don’t raise your wand at me, sir.” Ron bit off every word. “I will not allow you to harm me or anyone else in this room, including yourself. I don’t understand why you are so hostile to me but I might ask the Director to -”

“Weasley, enough. Head home and get some sleep.” Director Robards gave a hard look and Ron nodded. “You’re off duty until Thursday when we will hold the debriefing. You aren’t to discuss this case until the debriefing.”

“Yes, sir.” Ron stowed his wand and stalked to the door, slamming it behind him.

“The titmange wankstain,” he muttered to himself. “Bastard kept us back because he despises us for being Muggle supporters. Asshole needs to be kicked out.”

Ron picked up his ruck and made his way to the lifts. He was going to do as the Minister insist, taking off until Thursday. He could use some sleep, a decent meal, and some time with his wife, and if he was lucky, it wouldn’t be in that order. He’s have to deal with the consequences of giving cheek to the Chief Mugwump but that will be for another day.

The lift doors opened and he stepped inside to find his brother Percy inside. “Another bloody Weasley and the only damn honest Weasley of the bunch.” Ron snorted. “Well aren’t you a sight for exhausted eyes.”

Percy looked up from his stack of parchment. “Oh, hi Ron. What brings you in on a Saturday morning?”

“Case problems. Say, do you know the Chief Mugwump Purifoy?”

“I actually do. He’s a remarkable man and a brilliant mind. Why?”

“The bastard accused me being part of the coup and – “

“Oh, yes, that.” Percy’s face fell. “He is addled minded when it comes to those who don’t follow the law, regardless of whether it’s morally right or not. Law and Order is his priority, regardless of who is administering the law or who is harmed.”

“So when Umbridge was running things,” Ron couldn’t finish his thought.

“Yes, well, he supported her then too, because it was codified by fiat upon installation of Thicknesse as the Minister. It didn’t matter that it was by fiat, only that it was codified. Don’t worry, though. He gets bent at anyone who wasn’t part of the law and order of the time. It’s not just you.”

“So he considers you a good ministry drone?”

Percy flushed.

“That’s what I thought. Look, see if you can put a good word in his ear since he holds you in high esteem.”

“Of course I will.” Percy adjusted his glasses. The door lifts opened and the shorter redhead wearing half-moon glasses stepped forward, holding the gate. “He’s wrong, you know, whatever he said. You did what the rest of us couldn’t – keep Harry alive so we could have our way of life. I might be a stupid blithering idiot and blind to my own ambition but I also know how much you helped save all of us.” Percy let the gate go and the interior doors closed. “See you tomorrow.”

Ron waited for a hairbreadth and exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Merlin! First the Director and then my brother? What’s going on? I must be going mental from insomnia.”

The lift doors opened again and he stepped out, heading for the Floo and a sandwich, his wife, and his bed – all of which he needed immediately.

“Of course you’re important. Pull your finger out, you twat.”


End file.
